Smash Cut
by JoBethMegAmy. my homegirls
Summary: Short fic based on tumblr prompts I strung together. A med student and beat cop meet when they both try to buy the same bottle of KY jelly without the other noticing.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N** : Hi, all! I saw a prompt on Tumblr and ran with it. As a reminder, Jane and Maura are 22 here. And also be prepared to suspend your disbelief about pharmacy shelf set-ups._

* * *

Nobody had ever taken Maura's breath away like this—much less in unflattering fluorescent light at a pharmacy.

The girl was tall and lean, wearing a formal suit with the blazer slung over her shoulder an undone bow tie around her neck. She ran her hand through tousled dark curls as she scanned the shelves, looking cool as could be. Cool, that is, until Maura entered her peripheral vision and she suddenly straightened up, looking like a kid who'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"'Lo," the woman, named Jane, mumbled awkwardly. She'd felt the need to make some sort of vocal acknowledgement when this woman made brief eye contact, but now it felt weirder that she had. Jane took a small step away, trying to be subtle about it.

Maura felt an uncharacteristic urgency to size the opportunity to talk with this woman. "Hi!"

She said it with such enunciated deliberation that Jane chanced a second look. Her stomach flipped. Who showed up at CVS at 10:45 pm in heels and a tight dress? And who dared have eyes and dimples so gorgeous that the only words coming to Jane's mind were riddled with cliches?

Jane cleared her throat and returned her gaze to the shelf, pretending to look for shampoo. A few moments ago she'd been about to grab the last KY jelly, but had been overcome with self-consciousness when someone else had walked up. But this was fine; she could just pretend to browse for something super innocuous until this woman got whatever she'd come for and moved on to another aisle.

What she failed to know, of course, was that Maura was eyeing the exact same box. She had never been one to get squeamish about anything of a sexual nature (and had in fact been told by more than one friend that she sometimes over-shared), but something now was giving her pause. She often had a tendency to over-think, and that tendency was pushing her imagination into over-drive right now: What if this woman made some kind of comment about the lube, like a joke or nudge-nudge comment about sex? Maura wouldn't be able to handle it; it would be too devastating—and it would be too obvious that Maura felt enormously attracted to her. And then, in a weird way, buying this lube made it feel like Maura was cheating on this woman-which was insane for numerous reasons, not the least of which was that the lube wasn't even for her, it was for a friend's bachelorette party.

So much irrational thinking made Maura's head hurt, and after she and Jane had hovered awkwardly by each other a few moments longer, Maura made a brave stab at safe, un-sexy conversation.

"This is an excellent array of merchandise," she said, having drifted towards the shampoos as well. "Some very professional choices here."

"Mm." Jane didn't know enough about hair products to make any sort of comment; hell, her mother still cut her hair. By comparison, Maura looked as though she lived in a Pantene commercial.

"What do you put in your hair to get it to curl like that?"

Jane's eyebrows rose, and she instinctively ran her hand through her hair again. "What, this old briar patch? I just wash it and hope for the best."

"You're kidding!"

"Nope, this is all natural. _Au naturel_." _Wait, doesn't that mean naked? Oh god oh god oh god, change the subject!_ Jane was blushing hard and averting her eyes, missing the look of surprise her Freudian slip had elicited from Maura. "What do you recommend? You look like someone who uh, who knows her way around a hair salon. I mean..." She wasn't sure how that could possibly be taken as an insult, but she felt the need to elaborate all the same: "Um, your hair. It looks nice. Nice hair. S'nice."

 _Why are you talking like Tarzan? Shut up!_

"Wow, thanks," Maura chuckled, tucking some hair behind her ear. "I like Temperance products myself, but I've never used any of the ones designed specifically for curls. Do you have a salon you like? I'm sure they could make some good recommendations for you."

"Um, can't say I've got a favorite, no."

"Oh! Well, I'm new in town myself, so I haven't had the chance to do much research beyond the first one I tried, but..."

Jane was glad for the chance to grasp a new subject for more stimulating conversation. "Oh, welcome to Boston! What brings you here? Where are you from?"

Maura smiled, also grateful for another excuse to keep their conversation going. "I just finished my undergrad at Stanford and came here to start med school at BCU."

From anyone else this would've sounded like bragging, but Maura's tone was more matter-of-fact. Instead of being put off, Jane was impressed. "Wow! That's amazing, good for you! California girl, huh? How're you handling our brisk northeast autumn?"

"Well, I'm not a California native, so this is actually nice for me. I've missed true seasons."

"Ah, yeah, I bet you don't get colors like this back there, huh?"

"Oh, actually there's a number of places to see foliage in the Bay Area." And though Maura's tone was again matter-of-fact, Jane mentally berated herself for her stupidity. As if sensing Jane's self-consciousness about having asked the question, Maura was quick to add, "The autumnal beauty of this region really is distinct, though. I mean, literally everywhere you look there are just these resplendent reds and magnificent yellows and oranges."

Jane's broad smile was without question the most beautiful Maura had ever seen. _Did I just lick my lips? Oh, no, Isles..._

"Yeah, I love this time of year," Jane said, turning fully to face Maura.

That was when Maura noticed—"Speak of the devil, there's a leaf in your hair." Before Jane could even register what Maura had said and swat the leaf away herself, Maura's hand was raised. "May I?"

"Oh," Jane breathed. "Yeah, sure."

With a delicate touch, Maura pulled a leaf fragment from Jane's curls. "Ooh, looks like a red maple."

"Gosh, have I got any more hiding out?" Jane chuckled, giving her head a light shake and running both hands through her hair.

Both women jumped when a man suddenly showed up in the aisle and hugged Jane from behind. "Geez, babe, what's been taking so long?"

"Jesus, Casey, I said you could just wait in the c—"

He growled playfully, picking Jane up in a tight hug. Once he set her down, she twisted around to tell him off for being obnoxious. He asked her if she'd gotten her item yet, and held up a package of condoms. Blushing, she batted his arm down and whirled around to see if the beautiful stranger had noticed—but the girl was gone. Her heart sank in disappointment, but it bolted right back up her throat when she realized that the last KY was also gone.

"So what's taking you so damn long?" Casey asked, an impatient bite creeping its way in to his jovial tone. "Just pick one!"

Jane felt dazed; it took her a moment to respond. "I...there's no more KY left."

"So?" Casey laughed. "There's plenty of others to choose from!"

KY was the only brand Jane had ever seen advertised, and was thus the only one she'd been prepared to buy. "Fine, whatever, you just pick one and meet me at the self check-out," she grumbled, embarrassed. She hurried to the front of the store to try and catch a glimpse of the stranger, maybe ask her name if nothing else, but no dice.

Out of sight, but definitely not out of mind.

Jane was a virgin. She'd never done anything remotely sexual in nature, even the things kids in her high school health class had insisted didn't count as sex. Until Casey, she'd never had a boyfriend. She hadn't even been on a date, unless you counted senior prom, which her mother had forced her to attend with a family friend's son. When Frost didn't get the hint after a night of no dances and two ducked kisses, Jane surprised them both by coming out to him.

He had been sworn to secrecy, and the day afterwards Jane had told him she wasn't _totally_ sure she was gay, so it was possible in the future she'd be dating guys and Frost shouldn't worry that she was repressing anything. In the four years since, Jane hadn't vocalized her orientation crisis to anyone else. She still wasn't even sure she could conclusively say she wasn't attracted to men, but it was becoming harder and harder to pretend she didn't like women. She'd always been taught that being gay was bad, but unless you actually had sex with someone of your gender, you couldn't call yourself gay. Being gay was all about sex, right? Right. Sure.

What Jane knew for certain was that she couldn't follow through on her reluctant agreement to have sex with Casey tonight, and more than anything else, it was because of that girl she'd talked to at CVS. That beautiful girl who'd left with lube, and by the looks of it, nothing else.

On the drive back to Casey's apartment, he kept one hand on her leg and kissed her cheek at red lights. He kept up a non-stop monologue that was probably intended to turn her on, but she had totally zoned out, just saying "mm" and "yeah" enough to make him think she was listening. But she had her own inner monologue going:

 _She only bought lube. Some lucky bastard is with her somewhere right now. Or lucky ... lady? No, stop, there's no way a woman who looks like her is into women. Please. She was just being nice. So, so nice. It's nice to be friendly. Just because_ you're _not friendly to strangers doesn't mean other people aren't._

Jane was mortified to start thinking intimate thoughts about a total stranger. Hell, if she heard one of her brothers fantasizing alike this over a girl they'd met in passing at a pharmacy, she'd call them both pigs.

But it was the first time she'd ever felt another woman was low-key flirting with her. It was something about the look in her eyes when she'd taken the leaf out of Jane's hair, such an unnecessary and close-up thing to do. And as nerve-wracking as it had all been, it'd also been exhilarating.

When Casey pushed her against the door of his apartment and started kissing her neck with uncalled-for aggression, all Jane could think about was the stranger's lips; their shape, their color, their sheen. She had always wondered how it would feel to kiss glossed lips. Casey's grip shifted upwards, one hand palming her breast; she thought of how the stranger had asked before extracting a leaf from her hair. Casey never asked. He took, presumed, guilt-tripped.

All of a sudden, Jane had a moment of clarity: she deserved better.

She dumped him on the spot.

* * *

Jane's phone buzzed for the seventh time in two minutes. She groaned loudly and hit her head against the wall.

"Has that limp dick not gotten the hint yet?" Frost asked, passing by. With another groan, Jane grabbed Frost's lapel and dragged him to the nearby break room. As she closed the door and checked that no one else was hiding by the fridge or something, Frost said, "Why don't you just tell him what you told me at prom if you want him to leave you alone?"

"Because I knew I could trust you. I can't trust him," Jane said shortly. She sat down and indicated for Frost to do the same. "Look man, I need to ask you a serious question. Do you believe in love at first sight?"

He answered without hesitation: "No." Seeing Jane's surprise at his abruptness, he elaborated, "I believe in _lust_ at first sight, but love seems like a bit much."

"Okay, maybe I'm being too technical. What about love at…first conversation?"

Frost folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. "I guess that's a little more plausible, depending on the subject matter. I mean, deep and intimate stuff like your views on politics or religion? Sure, maybe. Talking about, I don't know, the weather or hair products or something? C'mon. You wanna tell me what's going on?"

Feeling pinpointed, Jane sighed heavily. "Like a week ago I was at CVS and I met this… this person. This woman," she added in a quieter voice, flicking her eyes up from the table for a second. "And I haven't been able to stop thinking about her since."

"And we're not just talking about lust at first sight?"

Jane blushed. "No—I mean yeah, sure, in part. She's beautiful. Totally gorgeous. But we talked, too. Maybe not about _deep stuff_ , but I dunno, that's kind of what got me about it. We didn't have to keep talking, but it's like we both wanted to, so we kept propping up kinda mundane stuff to keep it going. Okay, you know that thing people do in movies? Like, two strangers meet somewhere totally random and talk for like, thirty seconds, and then all of a sudden it's like boom, clap—" She clapped her hands together. "It cuts right away to them hardcore making out, or having sex, like with no lead in."

"A smash cut!" Frost said, proud of retaining some terminology his film student sister had taught him.

"Yeah, sure, whatever. That. The screenwriter is cheating! I need a play-by-play on how to get from the chit-chat to _that_."

"Damn, you thirsty son of a bitch!" Frost chuckled. He mimed speaking in to his shoulder radio. "We need an APB out on a CVS hottie; I'm gonna guess early-to-mid-twenties, blonde, about 5'6'', named…" His eyebrows rose when Jane said nothing. "You want to bone her and you don't even know her name?! Who _are_ you?!"

"I didn't say I wanted to do that!" Jane said, insulted that Frost would use such a crass word in reference to what's-her-name.

"Okay, sorry, you want to _make love_ to her."

"I didn't say that, either!"

"You as good as did! Smash cut sex!"

"I meant more like smash cut make out," Jane scowled. "Against her car… against a wall, against …oh God, I'm a creep, aren't I? I mean, obviously, I'd only be into that if she was into it. Which she probably wouldn't be, so never mind. Forget we had this conversation."

But something else had just occurred to Frost, helped along when Jane's phone buzzed yet again. "Wait, this was a week ago, you said? Is she the reason you dumped Casey?"

"No."

"She is! She totally is. You dumped him for some random chick whose name and number you don't even have."

Jane sighed again. "She wasn't the cause, she was more like the catalyst. I dunno, man. Like I was super awkward and I'm sure I said a ton of stupid stuff, but… just this _thrill_ I got talking to her, it was so much more exciting than _any_ thing I ever did with Casey. Anything."

And she looked so enamored, Frost couldn't bring himself to tease her anymore. "Do you feel like she was likewise excited, or were you too self-conscious to notice?"

"I dunno," Jane groaned. "I keep going back and forth. I think so? But I'd just left that going away party for Casey's best friend, and I wore a suit just to piss off my mother—"

"Yeah? What'd Mr. Traditional Tight Ass have to say about that?"

"Oh, he was cool with it. He was in a weirdly accepting mood. I think he thought it made him look all cool and progressive to be seen with me." Another loud sigh, and Jane was half-slumped over the table. "I bet she thought I looked dumb. But it doesn't matter, anyway. Boston's a big city, it's not like I'm ever gonna randomly bump into her again."

But that opportunity was about to come roaring around the corner when Korsak stuck his head in the break room. "Hey, young pups. Who wants to deal with a noise complaint?"


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:** Thanks for the feedback and follows, everyone! :) It feels nice to write for these two again. Shout-out to **shallow-seas-we-sail** for the "I ain't no greaseball" line. _

* * *

When Jane arrived at the address Korsak had given her, she was stunned by the audacity of this party. Sure it was a Friday night, but it was almost 2am on a quiet street. The moment she stepped out of her squad car, an elderly couple descended upon her like leathery vultures.

"—been at it for hours—"

"—we've been perfectly reasonable—"

"—landlord is out of town—"

"—laughed in our faces—"

Jane held up a hand but couldn't get a word in edgewise, which the old woman somehow took for negligence. "She'll never be able to hush up those bimbos," she muttered to her husband, apparently under the delusion that Jane couldn't hear her. "She'll probably want to join in that orgy. Why would the police send a skinny, greaseball dyke to do a—"

"Hey!" Jane yelled over the blaring music, startling the couple. Rather than assure them, Jane tugged her hat down, squared her shoulders and said, "I ain't no greaseball, lady."

She stormed past them to the duplex in question and banged hard on the door, announcing herself as the police. But nobody answered until she'd rung the bell twice.

A tall redhead swung the door open and immediately turned to gasp at her friends inside. "You guys are so bad! I _told_ you I promised Mark there wouldn't be any strippers tonight!"

Completely thrown by this, Jane's mouth dropped open but no words came out as the redhead dragged her inside.

"Who else is here who likes women? Maura! You're gay, right? Take one for me, let me live vicariously through you!"

"I'm here about a noise complaint!" Jane at last managed, though for some reason she seemed to have a harder time rising her voice over the music than the redhead did.

"Ooh, we need to be _punished!_ " giggled one of the other women, walking up to Jane and pulling her hat off and swerving away with it.

"Whoa, miss, give—"

"Hey, here she is! Sit down, Maura!"

The redhead spun Jane around, and her heartbeat sped into turbo when she saw the med student from CVS seated before her. Maura looked just as shocked, but an impressed smile soon broke out on her face. Again thrown for a loop, Jane was frozen. Maura pulled a five from her wallet and bit her lip, waving the bill between two fingers.

For the briefest of moments, Jane was overcome with a strong desire to start removing her top and humping the air over this woman, over Maura—but the utter lunacy of this fantasy washed over her as quickly as the idea itself had arrived. She tried again to explain her purpose in coming, but the gaggle of drunken women refused to listen. More of them pulled out singles; the one who'd grabbed Jane's hat was now wearing it at an angle and leering.

"Where's the music coming from?" Jane all but shouted in an attempt to be heard.

The hostess directed her to the portable speakers near a laptop as the women cheered her on to pick something sexy. A shocked hush fell over them when Jane shut the laptop instead, killing the music at once. Now she could finally hear herself think.

"It is almost two in the morning," she said, "and if that wasn't bad enough, you share this duplex with two old if obnoxious people who need a break from all the damn noise. I'm not here to strip; I'm here to notify you of a noise complaint. One I'll have to formally write up if you don't chill right now." She held out her badge, and the woman who'd nicked her hat slowly started to take it off.

"This isn't a very sexy start to your act," said the bride-to-be. "Ooh, unless you're just trying to throw us off as a fun surprise!"

Maura stood up, a little clumsily due to her inebriated state, and walked towards Jane. She was still holding the five dollar bill and used her free hand to feel Jane's sleeve. Her touch lingered on Jane's bicep, appreciating the hardness she found there, but it did not distract her from making her point. "Wool blend, military creases. She's the real deal, ladies. She didn't com here to be sexy. She just came and happened to _be_ sexy."

It was like the booze on Maura's breath was intoxicating Jane, too. Keeping her eyes on Maura, Jane snapped her fingers and opened her palm in the direction of the girl who'd taken her hat. She threw it, and an emboldened Jane—now totally tipsy off the look Maura was giving her—jammed the hat on her head and murmured, "Damn right. And I came because someone's been—bad." (She just couldn't bring herself to go through with it and say "naughty." Ugh, that word.)

Her heart did another flip when she noticed a blush color Maura's cheek. But then another woman called out in jubilation, "Ooh, she _is_ a stripper!"

In a snap, Jane's professionalism returned. "No, miss, no. I'm a real cop. And you're all in—who's the hostess here?" When the woman guiltily raised her hand, Jane pointed sternly at her and said, " _You're_ in trouble if this bachelorette party doesn't break up right now. C'mon ladies, party's over. Is anyone here sober enough to drive?"

By way of response, two of the women pulled out their phones to order Uber rides.

"If we pool, we can all…that'd work."

The party gathered around the phones, and someone did some quick figuring. "Some loser's gonna have to get their own ride."

Maura lifted her gaze from her friend's phone to meet Jane's eyes, and in an instant Jane could picture Maura waltzing over, maybe grazing Jane's baton, and asking, "Can I get a _ride_ , officer?" and then SMASH CUT TO: heavy panting and thrusting against an apartment door! Jane shoots, she scores!

 _No! Abort! Abort, abort, abort!_

"All right, you all figure that out," Jane said gruffly. She tugged at her belt and made an about face for the front door.

She stopped halfway down the porch steps. It would be the gallant thing to do to offer a drunk woman a ride home. Hell, she'd been giftwrapped a chance to at least get contact info from her. She checked her watch: 2:06am. Her shift was over. She wasn't sure if she handle the jeering of all those drunken women if she were to go back in there to hit on Maura, though. And the longer she waited, the worse it would be.

"Officer?"

Jane whirled around and lost her footing on the stairs, causing her to trip. Her leg and stomach rammed onto the wooden planks of the porch steps. She bounced back up to her feet despite the pain, thrilled that Maura had come out alone to see her but also embarrassed to have had her witness that oafish fall.

But Maura acted as though nothing awkward had happened, simply walking down to meet Jane. "Aren't you sworn to serve and protect?"

"Y…yes."

"So don't you think it's your duty as an officer of the law to make sure I get home safely? I only…" She hiccupped. "I'm less than ten minutes away."

Jane's jaw tightened and she tried to think of something smooth to say. Smooth words failed her. "Well, when you put it that way…" She tucked her hat under one arm and extended the other to Maura, leading her back to the squad car.

After Maura mumbled out her address, there was silence in the car for a couple of minutes until she spoke again: "I was buying lube." Before Jane could respond, she went on, "I was buying it in preparation for this party. To give my friend, my friend the bachelorette. Well, _a_ bachelorette. Not like capital The capital Bachelorette, like from TV. It was for her, not for me." She chuckled, leaning her head against the window. "I don't know why it was important to me that you know that, but it was. Is."

Jane was silent for a few moments, partly waiting to make sure the rambling was over, but also giving herself time to wrestle with her own secrets. She came to the conclusion that it was safe to confide in Maura, who was likely too intoxicated to remember anything embarrassing Jane admitted.

"Um…I broke up with my boyfriend."

"You did what?"

"I know you were buying lube, because that's what I was there for, not shampoo. I just got self-conscious when you walked up. And you left with the only bottle of KY, which I'd had my eye on. My boyfriend showed up, and I was like… really upset that he'd chased you away. And that didn't seem right. I mean, I should be happy when my boyfriend shows up, not pissed because he interrupted me making an ass of myself in front of a beautiful woman."

"Mmm, ass," Maura hummed, and Jane felt her body temperature rise about ten degrees. "Yours is really nice, your ass. Does it dimple, like your face?"

Jane laughed uncomfortably. "Um, I don't know. I don't see that part of my body a whole lot."

"Oh, right. What about your boyfriend, could we call and ask him? He must know."

"My _ex_ -boyfriend," Jane reminded her, "and he's never seen that part of my body before. He might've been about to that night you and I met, but…"

"There were plenty of other lubricants left for you to choose from," Maura said defensively.

"No I know, that's not—"

"But you know what the best lubricant is that I've ever encountered?" Maura asked with a dreamy sigh. "Your voice."

Jane's grip tightened on the wheel and she almost missed the turn onto Maura's street. "My—?"

"God, it's such a turn-on," Maura groaned. "Did your boyfriend ever just have sex with your voice?"

Jane had used humor many a time to diffuse tension, but she'd never been in a situation where tension had been sexual and she reverted back to her old mechanism in her anxiety. "Wow, how drunk _are_ you?" she chuckled.

She stopped outside Maura's address, which she'd assumed would be an apartment complex, but was actually house. More surprises.

Maura pondered what had been intended as a rhetorical question. "Drunk enough that I'm … inhibitions are lowered. Not so drunk that you should feel like you were taking advantage of me if I invited you inside. To bed."

SMASH CUT TO: INTERIOR, Maura's House, Night. In Maura's bed, two bodies are writhing under the sheets—

The fantasy was cut short abruptly when Maura opened her door and proceeded to vomit onto the driveway. Jane hurried around to her side of the car, careful to avoid stepping in anything unsavory, and helped Maura out of her seat. They made a stop on the lawn for Maura to throw up once more; this time, Jane was able to hold her hair back. It was the least sexy scenario Jane could have imagined, but as disgusting as it was, there was a small part of her that was glad she was here to help. She rubbed Maura's back and murmured soft, needless reassurances like "there you go" and "you okay?" and "no offense but those flowers were hideous anyway, so maybe this is just as well."

When Maura straightened back up, she thanked Jane and fixed her with as steady a look as she could manage. "I'm very sexy," she said, with so much confidence that Jane had to work hard not to laugh. "But the alcohol is sab-o-taging me. So." She leaned forward and poked Jane harder in the chest than she'd meant to, while Jane tried not to breathe through her nose. "Will you come in for a sec in c… in case I need someone to hold my hair again? Over the toilet," she clarified with a slow wink.

"Yeah, of course," said Jane, oblivious to what else Maura could've been implying. After a couple of long nights at the Dirty Robber, she had wished more than once for a roommate who might've been able to hold back her hair for her, so she was eager to perform the service for someone else. Especially _this_ someone else.

But when they got inside, Maura turned around and said, "Strip."

Jane kept her hand on the doorknob in case she needed to make a fast getaway. "Excuse me?"

Maura sighed and stumbled backwards into a chair. "Wow, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound like a creep. I saw you fall on the porch at Quinn's house. I thought I'd… I could check you. See if your rubs are ribbed." She laughed. "Ribs are bruised, wow. But you don't have to remove your shirt for that. But do you know something? I think one of the sexiest things a woman can do is take off her shirt. A button-up, I mean. Something about the way her arms and her shoulders move, and her back. It's sexy. So sexy. And I sound so creepy, don't I? Please stay fully dressed. I'll be right back; I need to change. Into real clothes, I promise."

Maura went into her bedroom and shut the door. Jane sighed, letting out what felt like her first exhale since coming inside. Drunk Maura was much more brazen than semi-awkward CVS Maura, and as much as Jane would've loved to be excited by that, she was more anxious and feeling out of her depth. (Not to mention, too sober for a level playing field.)

Jane spent a few moments looking around the living room. The space was much less cluttered and cleaner overall than she would've expected a student's to be, and given the neighborhood, Jane assumed the house was shared with roommates or maybe a well-off family member. It was the fear of such an unknown person showing up, or of Maura reappearing in a nightie, that kept Jane from being able to relax enough to really take a good investigative look at her surroundings. After pacing for a while she sat down on the sofa, tense and trying not to show it, even to an empty room.

She considered texting Frost and even pulled out her phone to do so, but she had no idea what to say or ask. She took her hair out of its restrictive bun, remembering how Maura had admired it. There came a brief satisfaction in accomplishing this minor task, but her anxiety returned almost at once.

What was Maura going to expect her to do? She didn't feel at all comfortable with the idea of fooling around with someone who was inebriated, even if she'd been given the green light. Even if she _did_ feel that would be somehow morally acceptable, she wouldn't want her first experience of anything with a woman—especially this woman—to be tainted by drunkenness.

 _But what if it's the only shot I get? Should I ask if I could raid the liquor cabinet for the chance to get on her level and get down? No, no, come on…_

Ten minutes of tortuous waiting passed before Jane figured she ought to check in. She knocked lightly on the bedroom door.

"Miss—um, Maura? Everything okay in there?"

Complete silence. Jane strained her ears, wondering if maybe Maura was taking a shower, but she heard no running water. She let a couple more minutes pass, knocked again, and still got no response. Bracing herself for anything inappropriate she might see, Jane cracked the door open and peeked inside through squinted eyes. Maura was lying face-down on the bed, next to a charging phone and still mostly dressed.

Jane stepped inside, knocking again, but Maura still didn't stir. She tiptoed to the bed. Maura was in a tank top and the tight jeans she'd been wearing at the bachelorette party. Those couldn't be too comfortable to sleep in, but Jane wasn't about to unbutton the pants of someone who was still essentially a stranger when said pants didn't seem in danger of suffocating her. Jane gently prodded Maura's arm. Maura was breathing fine, but was unresponsive. In case she were to vomit again, though, Jane shifted Maura so that she was lying more on her side. Was there anything else she could do?

It occurred to her that Maura might wake up cold later in the night. Maura was lying on top of the covers on her perfectly-made bed, a sharp contrast from the way all of Jane's bedding wound up in a crumpled mess at the foot of the bed and/or on the floor. There was a very good chance that she could've moved Maura's body enough to at least pull the covers out from under her without disturbing her, but it seemed risky. Jane didn't like the thought of Maura waking up to see a tall figure looming over her, touching her in bed.

She remembered seeing a blanket draped over the sofa, and hurried out to get it. It wasn't as scratchy as it looked; in fact, it was quite soft. Almost by instinct, Jane brought it closer to smell it, and she could detect a hint of Maura's perfume or lotion—something fruity but not overbearing. She whisked it back to the bedroom and draped the blanket over Maura, tucking it in as delicately as possible. For the first time Maura stirred, and Jane paused with bated breath, but Maura just sighed and nuzzled in. Jane hovered, knowing it would be inappropriate to stay, but wanting desperately to help more.

Maybe she'd already done too much, but it would be an unquestionable breach to go searching for any kind of pain meds to leave out in case Maura woke up with a headache. Instead, Jane went back to the kitchen, found a glass in the drying rack, and filled it with the water. It looked a little lonely on Maura's nightstand, which was when it occurred to Jane—with a tangible jolt of excitement—to leave a note. She pulled a pad of paper from her pocket and wound up with a few drafts before settling on:

 _Hi, Maura—_

 _Hope you slept well! Those mornings after can be a doozy. I really enjoyed getting to see you again, and wouldn't mind if it were to happen on purpose without the noise complaint aspect. If you're interested in meeting up again on purpose sometime, hit me up_.

She scribbled her cell phone number, then signed it _Officer/Non-Stripper Jane Rizzoli_


	3. Chapter 3

"So are you in some kind of trouble with the law, or did you literally fuck the police?"

It was almost noon and Maura had just emerged from her bedroom with a bad headache and bleary eyes to see her sister Cailin in the living room, reading a magazine. Heading for the kitchen cupboard of pain relief meds, she mumbled, "What? And follow-up question, what're you doing here?"

"You said I could visit today on my way back to mom's," Cailin said, still flipping through _People_. "I know we said tonight, but dad's new girlfriend was at his place and I can't _stand_ her so I peaced out early. I left at midnight and got here around three."

"Do they even know you left?"

"I left a note," Cailin said impatiently. "Anyway, a police car was pulling out of the driveway when I turned down your street. So?"

Maura's head felt woozy after knocking it back to swallow some pills, but mental clarity was starting to come back to her. "You saw a police car leaving my house at 3:00 in the morning and didn't come in to see if I was okay?"

Cailin laughed and put down the magazine. "Oh, I tried! I poked my head in your room, and you were like dead asleep. I didn't see an ambulance anywhere and you weren't like hooked up to an IV or anything, hence my initial inquiry."

She thought Maura was just weighing how much she wanted to tell her, but then she asked, "And what was that again?"

"Did you ride a horse naked around _this_ campus, too, and get into some kind of trouble with the law or did you fuck the police?"

Maura choked on her water. "Oh, goodness. Um… well, Katie's bachelorette party got a little out of control. Nothing crazy," she hastened to add, seeing Cailin's eyes widen. "We were just very loud very late. A cop showed up and sort of ended the party, and I was too intoxicated to drive, and… oh, we needed Uber pools but then there wasn't enough room, so the policewoman gave me a ride."

"A _ride_ huh?" Cailin asked, pumping her eyebrows.

Cringing, Maura set about making coffee. "No, nothing happened."

"But you wish it had," Cailin prompted her.

"I'm afraid I may have hit on her extensively while I was under the influence." She sighed. "That's attractive, right?"

And then all of a sudden, she remembered a scrap of paper under the glass of water on her nightstand. It was usually an impeccably spotless place, but she hadn't thought much of it when she'd first gotten up. Maura raced back to the bedroom, and oh bless, that was indeed a note she had glimpsed earlier:

 _Hi, Maura—_

 _Hope you slept well! Those mornings after can be a doozy. I really enjoyed getting to see you again, and wouldn't mind if it were to happen on purpose without the noise complaint aspect. If you're interested in meeting up again on purpose sometime, hit me up_.

And there was her phone number…

* * *

Jane had never appreciated the phrase "waiting on pins and needles" as much as she did today, waiting for a potential text from Maura. She was glad she slept in late; it left her with less than two hours to kill before her shift, where she hoped work would distract her from obsessing over a message that might not even come. But it was no use: whether working out at home or parked in an empty church lot to catch speeding drivers, Jane almost had a heart attack every time her phone buzzed. She didn't know which was worse, the anticipation of a text or the mixture of disappointment and relief that came when a message turned out to be from someone else.

It would be easier to know which emotion to feel if she had an idea of what Maura was going to say ( _if_ she texted at all). What if Maura asked her out? It was a thrilling but terrifying notion. How could she go from years of being in the closet to taking a woman on a date out of nowhere? The thought of going out with a woman on a romantic date, in public, under judgmental eyes, was excruciating. What would her parents say? What would her brothers say? What would the guys at work say?

This all settled her with a more depressing question to wrestle with while she waited for a text. Maura would have to find it a huge turn-off to go out with someone so petrified at the thought of being seen with another woman, someone so green. Clearly Maura was out and had no hang-ups about it, as evidenced by her non-reaction to her friends' discussion of her orientation in front of a total stranger—who she had then been ready to pay for a lap dance. But what if she had just been too drunk to have the clarity of mind to be upset? Maybe she wasn't as full of bravado when she was sober.

Jane's stomach clenched with yet another consideration: what if she'd misread everything at the pharmacy and Maura was straight? What if she and her friends had just been joking at the party, exacerbated by booze, and she had just gone along with the gag when Jane drove her home? But no… right? She _had_ to like women. Jane's mother had drilled into the kids over and over and over again that "drunk words are sober thoughts." Surely that meant Maura had to be at least bi-curious?

It wasn't until Jane was getting dinner around 9:00 that Maura had worked up the nerve to contact her. Given the nature of the text, Jane wished she wasn't sitting across from her mother when it came in. Her heart had done a flip at seeing a number instead of a name pop up, and then her heart just straight up started doing aerial flips when she read the text:

 _M: Hello, officer! This is Maura, from last night :) Thank you for your sweet note, I'd love to meet up sometime. I know you said you hoped noise complaints wouldn't be involved this time, but I think it'd be a damn shame if we couldn't get at least one of my neighbors to register one ;)_

In an instant Jane's face was rose red, and her mother didn't fail to notice. "Who's that?" she asked, as Jane fumbled to slip the phone in her pocket to keep Angela from seeing it.

"Nothing. Nobody."

"Jane Clementine Rizzoli, for a cop, you're a lousy liar."

Jane's blush deepened as she felt her phone vibrate twice more. "It's—Casey. He just can't seem to, um, handle the ditch. The break-up. Kinda being a jerk about it."

This bought her a couple of minutes of Angela ranting about how Casey was a horndog who'd done her precious baby wrong. She didn't feel comfortable chancing another look at her phone with her mother in such close proximity, and she just nodded and grunted along with Angela's exclamations. Jane squirmed when the phone vibrated twice again, and Angela's ranting was not enough to distract her from noticing.

"Is that him again? Why don't you just tell him off?" She gasped and lowered her voice. "Is he—what's it called?—is he _sexting_ you?"

"MA!" Jane barked, jumping up from the table. "Ew, no! I've got it under control, just butt out! It's fine!"

She went to a not-terribly-sexy but at least assuredly private place: a bathroom stall. In reviewing Maura's first text, she barely had a chance to get excited/mortified because of the follow-ups:

 _M: OH GOD IGNORE THAT_

 _M: I've never sent an all-caps text in my life; that's how critical it is to me that you know my sister thinks she's hilarious and saw your note and decided to text you for me._

There then followed a picture of a sullen teenager folding her arms and wearing a sign around her neck that said, "Collar of shame for sending an inappropriate text to a stranger while pretending to be my sister." It was accompanied by the final message: _Seriously, I am SO embarrassed. I wouldn't blame you for not replying, but I really hope you will. I'm setting up a passcode for my phone so my sister won't be able to masquerade as me again and trick you into thinking I'm more scandalous than I really I am. And lest you doubt this is in fact Maura: you were wearing a suit with a green bow tie at CVS and described your hair as a briar patch._

Jane reread the stream of messages at least five times, which was how long it took her to realize she was—to borrow another cliché—smiling from ear to ear. Relief poured over her: Maura wasn't the cool, collected person she had somehow dreamt up since their semi-awkward encounter at CVS. She was a little unsure of herself too, it seemed. She used semi-colons and fancy vocabulary in her texts. What a cutie.

Several minute slater (and still in the privacy of the bathroom stall), Jane composed a reply that didn't make her entire body want to fold in on itself:

 _ **J: Hey, I've been hoping to hear from you! :) That was a bit of a roller coaster—but a good one! How're you feeling today?**_

After staring at her screen a few moments Jane was about to put the phone back in her pocket, but then she saw an ellipses and her heartbeat picked up again.

 _M: I'm feeling very well, thank you. That was so thoughtful of you to get me home and leave out the water. Did you clean up vomit from the driveway? I could've sworn I threw up there, but maybe I'm mis-remembering._

 _ **J: Oh yeah I did that before I left. I borrowed your hose, I hope that's ok.**_

 _M: Oh my gosh, what a stud in shining armor :)_

Jane was glad no one was around to see her blush this time. Which emoji could properly convey the nervous excitement such a compliment had elicited? Jane was about to go with finger guns when another text came through:

 _M: Before I make too much more of an ass of myself, I think I should clarify—are you interested in women, or was I just projecting? Because I am very, very gay and I think you are very, very sweet and very, very beautiful, and I'd like to go on a date with you. That's presumptuous of me, I know—I'm not sure if that guy at CVS was your boyfriend or brother or friend or what. I'd love to hang out platonically, too, if you'd be more comfortable with that._

This had to mean Maura hadn't seen Casey suggestively wave condoms at Jane in CVS, and also meant she'd forgotten their conversation last night where Jane had told her about breaking up with him. She wasn't sure if that was a relief or a setback, but she supposed part of what had made her so open to disclosing all that to Maura had been the assumption that she wouldn't remember it the next day.

For her part, Maura was much braver in writing than she was in person. Though she did tend to be forthcoming by nature, she couldn't imagine being quite so bold and blunt to Jane's face. She also kind of figured she had nothing to lose after Cailin's incredibly distasteful meddling. But maybe she'd still come on a little too strong. That, at least, seemed like a logical concern when four minutes had passed without a response. Yup. She'd gone a step too far and that girl would never want to see her in any capacity ever ag—oh wait, here came a response.

 _ **J: Sorry, I don't mean to leave you hanging! I just wasn't expecting you to jump right to the chase like that but maybe it's for the best that you did. I've only talked about this to one other person before but I like women. I've never acted on it before. I don't know if I'm a lesbian or bi or whatever but I do know that in a perfect world, I'd be at your front door with flowers to pick you up for a very public date. But idk if you'd want to waste your time pursuing a closet case and I wouldn't blame you if you didn't.**_

Following Maura's lead, Jane didn't find it as intimidating as she'd have thought to be so open, although she did wish she hadn't come off sounding so pathetic. Again, texting made it easier to be more direct than a face-to-face conversation, especially texting a stranger—someone she could cut out of her life with no trouble at all if needs be. But oh, how she wished it wouldn't come to that.

She was holding her breath waiting for a reply, wondering if she should elaborate or apologize or if she'd already said too much. Whichever the case, she wasn't sure how much longer she could stay shut up in the bathroom without someone wanting to know where she was.

 _M: Well you said you like women, which implies you aren't a closet case, just closeted. Very different. At this point, I wouldn't regard any time I spent with you as wasted. Maybe I could be a helpful person for you to talk about all this? No judgment, no expectations. Are you free tonight for drinks by any chance?_

A follow-up: _I promise I won't get drunk this time! And I don't mean it has to be a date, either._

Jane had to lean against the stall for support. This was surreal. _**I'm sorry, I work until 2am tonight and then I really need to get to sleep. Maybe Monday? I have the whole day off. What's your schedule like?**_

 _M: ABC Party at night, but I have a break between classes from 1—4. How would you feel about meeting me for coffee on campus?_

It sounded much better than the thought of meeting up at a bar—they'd actually be able to have a conversation without shouting over music or a game on ESPN. It was also much less likely their conversation would be overheard by someone who knew Jane or any of the Rizzolis. After Jane sent an enthusiastic request for a time and location, Maura was prompt with her answer.

And just like that, all the anxieties she'd been carrying around all day disappeared. Why hadn't anyone ever told her how easy it was to set up things with girls? Psh, what a breeze!

Jane didn't realize how widely she was smiling until she strutted back out to the hallway and immediately locked eyes with a little old lady who'd been standing in the hall when Jane had first gone in to the restroom (Jane didn't ask, but she was waiting for her son Stanley's shift at the café to end). Her arched eyebrow arched even higher at the smile Jane was incapable of suppressing.

Feeling an inexplicable need to give this woman some sort of explanation for her lengthy restroom interlude, Jane declared, "Pooped! Been constipated all day and it's finally over! Yeah! Hallelujah!"

The old woman didn't crack a smile, even as Jane moonwalked down the hall with an open-mouthed grin she still couldn't quell.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N** : Y'all, all bets are now off. This story has started morphing into something beyond what I anticipated, but worry not - no projects of serious angst ahead! I am still really, really invested in keeping it short in hopes of ensuring that it doesn't get left an eternal WIP. Thank you for reading; your feedback is a great early Christmas gift. _

* * *

There were many supposed attractive habits and traits people possessed which Maura had long resigned herself to never understanding past a surface anthropological level. Like sure, smoking _looked_ glamorous in fancy photo-shoots or black-and-white movies, but being around it was so unappealing and worse, unhealthy. Motorcycles were another one, or "statistically unsafe vehicular choices" in her father's words, or "noise pollutant death traps" in her mother's. Maura had had many a friend swoon over men getting onto or off of their bikes, and she had never understood the big deal.

But as she would soon learn, Jane Rizzoli was going to have a profound impact on what she found attractive from here on out.

Maura was far from being the only person watching the tall brunette getting off her motorcycle outside the coffee shop. Jane shook her hair out and stored her helmet away, totally unaware of the attention she was drawing. Almost by instinct, Maura checked her pulse as Jane unzipped her leather jacket to the navel and stepped inside. How could Maura have forgotten how breathtaking this woman was? Though barely able to make her thoughts cohere, Maura was at least cognizant of the fact that she was smiling as widely as Jane when she walked up.

"Hi!" she said with heartwarming enthusiasm, nodding at Maura's cup. "Guess you already ordered, huh? I'll just be a sec."

For as awkward as Jane had seemed to feel in their texting conversation, she was exuding plenty of confidence at the moment. Not cockiness, but a certain kind of effortless ease that Maura's tenseness rarely allowed her to cultivate when she was out on her own. Maura didn't want to be a creep, but she couldn't help watching Jane in line. The jacket was very worn and a bit too big for her, but those jeans fit nicely. _Very_ nicely. She blushed when Jane turned around with her drink in hand and she had to flick her gaze upwards to meet Jane's eyes.

"Were you checking me out?" Jane whispered, sitting down.

Missing the delight in Jane's tone, Maura put her face in her hands and groaned. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to be like every other creep you meet."

"Hey, what? No! C'mon, if I wasn't down for you potentially checking me out, I wouldn't have shown up," Jane assured her. "I mean, not that we even said this was a date, like a real date," she said, lowering her voice even more. "But you're not being creepy. You already know the uh, the interest is mutual."

She'd been about to compliment how Maura looked, but Maura cut her off: "I want to apologize again for my sister's inappropriateness, and for anything I might've said or done at my friend's party that was over the line. I don't remember much clearly, but since you made a point of signing your note as a non-stripper, I think I can guess."

Grateful that the shop was busy and too loud for anyone to be eavesdropping, Jane blushingly nodded. "I'm flattered you leapt to that conclusion, though."

"Oh, gosh. Well I mean, women must throw themselves at you all the time."

Jane looked taken aback by this assumption. "What? Why?"

Maura took a slow sip of coffee, regarding Jane over her cup. She detected a hint of panic and wondered if Jane was self-conscious about looking too gay while still in the closet. "It's not—I meant because you're so beautiful," Maura explained. "Although I mean, to be fair, I've only seen you in a suit, your somewhat masculine work attire, and this motorcycle outfit."

 _Ugh, even the way she_ sits _is sexy,_ Maura thought as Jane laughed and shifted in her seat. _How is that possible?_

"Well, the suit thing was kind of a fluke," Jane said. "Most of the time when I'm off the clock, I just dress to be comfortable, which means I look like your average straight lady with poor fashion sense."

"Oh, I have to disagree. Not a single thing about how you look is average."

Jane bit her lip, trying to figure out why her impulse was to fight a smile. What made her stomach flutter at Maura's compliment when the same comment from a guy would've made her roll her eyes and/or slap him? She took a moment to think it through. In her experience guys tended to say stuff like that because 1) they fancied themselves a knight in shining armor and wanted to swoop in on a girl with low self-esteem to get laid, or 2) they were trying to be smooth and get laid. Though infused with earnestness, Maura's comment had not sounded nor felt like flirting. It came off as an objective observation intended only as a compliment, not a lead-in to score. Jane wondered if all women were like that.

"That's kind of you. Be that as it may, I can't say that I've ever met a woman who _threw_ herself at me. Too bad, because maybe I'd have gotten to this point a lot sooner," she chuckled, gesturing to herself and Maura. "I guess it's possible, though. Maybe I just never noticed."

She'd thought they might lean into heavier/gayer subject matter after some idle chatter, but as with their texting conversation a few days ago, Maura seemed ready to get right to it. "That man at CVS, he wasn't a relative, was he?"

"No, he was not," Jane said, praying for bravery to get through this explanation a second time. "That was my boyfriend on the last night he was my boyfriend."

Maura's eyebrows shot up. "Oh! What happened?"

It had been easier to talk about this when Maura had been drunk. Jane felt self-consciousness starting to creep over her like a shroud, but pushed through it with her newfound determination to be brave. "Well …I hope this doesn't sound creepy, but _you_ happened," Jane said. She was glad to see that Maura looked surprised by this, as opposed to smug or put off. "Some part of me knew I was settling with Casey, and that we weren't gonna be 'till death do we part.' But for right now, I dunno, I kinda figured he was the best I could do. I knew him in high school, he's hardworking, good-looking—"

"Eh," Maura muttered.

"—and a soldier, so he'd be… he'd be gone a lot," Jane finished, feeling profoundly guilting for voicing that aloud. "I guess that's not a good sign when one of your favorite aspects of a relationship is that you don't have to see each other often, is it?"

"Not in this case, no."

Jane nodded. "But he liked me, and that was pretty novel. I don't, uh, I mean I guess most of the time I have a resting bitch face, so guys don't come up and chat with me often. Plus, I mean, y'know," she said, gesturing to her body. "Flat-chested bean pole, am I right? Guys weren't exactly lining up." (She didn't pause before continuing, leaving Maura no time to register her shock that Jane didn't seem to know how gorgeous she was.) "The cop thing didn't help much, either. Scared guys away, or only attracted kinky creeps. Anyway …I know you and I only interacted for like, two minutes, but I was bummed when my boyfriend showed up and you left. I'd have much rather kept talking to you about the weather than lost my virginity to him, and that seemed like another poor indication of our relationship."

She hadn't planned on outing herself as a virgin; it had just slipped out and did little to erase the still-surprised look on Maura's face. "You're a—?"

"Yep."

"I see." Maura took another long sip, trying to mull quickly. "So, when you texted me that 'in a perfect world' you'd take me out on a date, you didn't mean because you were taken?"

It took Jane a moment to untangle Maura's confusing syntax. No, that's what I meant about the closet stuff. I can't picture my family being at all okay with the idea of me taking a woman on a date."

"I see," Maura said again. "Religious concerns, I assume?" When Jane nodded, Maura asked, "Which denomination?"

"Catholic. We are very, very Catholic."

"We? So is that why you've never acted on your attraction to women before, because you think it's sinful?"

"Um…I duno, I mean I don't think I really believe that any more. It's just all I've ever been brought up to think," Jane said. "After a point, though, it didn't seem right to me that people would get all bent out of shape about it the way they do. The rage doesn't seem proportional to the sin—or to the, whatever. I mean, gay marriage is gonna send God's wrath to America, but slavery and the genocide of Native Americans didn't do that already? Why would loving families be so bad?"

A semester's worth of notes from a World Religions elective was swirling in Maura's mind. "Well, I mean the Bible has been used to not only excuse but condone slavery, so… I mean personally, I find it useful to remember that whether you take its spiritual usefulness at face value or not, it _is_ still a historical text."

"Um, right," Jane said, prickled by discomfort. "Anyway, I got plenty of lectures with and without scripture to back it up about why gay stuff was bad. Gays are all pedos and lesbians are all predators; they're all perverts and society's acceptance of them is a sign of the end of days."

"Your parents told you all that?"

"My parents, my congregation, and most movies and TV shows of my childhood told me that, yeah. When I was in high school, the only gay kids I knew were like, those weirdos who had _way_ too many personal stories to share in health class, if you know what I mean. Didn't really do much to help with my association of a gay lifestyle—or gayness, sorry—with dangerous behavior. Not that that's their fault or that they owed it to anyone to be I guess what you'd call a model minority, it's just what I saw. They were living these lives I didn't want. I didn't want to do drugs, didn't want to be promiscuous. For all I know, I had other out classmates living totally normal, safe lives. I just didn't know them." She sighed, then smiled ruefully at Maura's too-composed expression. "I'm worse than you thought, huh?"

In truth, yes, but Maura wasn't about to say it. "No, I'm—it's okay," she stammered. She didn't want Jane to feel bad for unloading in what was probably the first time she'd ever felt free to do so. "So you've been feeling this way about women since you were in high school? How old are you now?"

"Twenty-two, but oh I knew way before then," Jane said casually. "I have a super clear memory of this. On the last day of third grade, I kissed my teacher, Ms. Stein, on the cheek. One of my classmate's moms teased me about having a crush. She wasn't being mean or anything; I think she thought it was sweet. But that hadn't occurred to me at all, that I had a crush, since I was a girl and Ms. Stein was a girl and I'd never heard of girls having crushes on girls. So like even though all year I'd been thinking how nice Ms. Stein was, and how friendly, and how pretty, and how smart, I just thought it was admiration—until that mom used that word. And then I was like, oh. I _do_ have a crush on Ms. Stein! But my Ma was giving the other mom this really annoyed look. We didn't talk about it, but that look made it pretty damn clear that I wasn't gonna talk about that crush if it did exist."

It was amazing to Maura that Jane didn't seem to be exhibiting any angst in relaying all of this. She almost sounded upbeat, as if it was comforting to remind herself that these feelings had existed in her far before she was old enough to be conscious of their classification as sin.

"And then when I was a freshman or sophomore we had Father Maggione over for Christmas and—how'd it come up? Oh, my brother had a teammate who came out and he asked the Father if it was okay to still be friends with him."

"Oh dear, what did he say?"

"He said it was okay to stay friends, unless he ever made a move on Tommy. But they were only about twelve at the time, which meant, God willing, this boy wasn't _actually_ gay because you can only be gay if you have gay, um, _intercourse_ ," she whispered.

Maura almost choked on her coffee. "What charming dinner conversation."

"Yeah…anyway, I figured for a long time that meant that so long as I wasn't _doing_ anything with other girls, or fantasizing about them too much, I was straight and fine."

" _Too_ much?"

"Well, I mean, sometimes I couldn't help it, y'know, if like a pretty girl was walking down the hall, or…"

"Or your subconscious would betray you when you masturbated."

Jane's reaction was so intense that Maura feared for a moment that she was having a seizure. She jumped so badly that coffee slopped out of her cup and onto the table. Jane glanced around to see if anyone else had heard Maura's comment, but it seemed more of the people looking their way had been alerted by Jane's dramatic if justified reaction. Maura didn't seem to realize she'd overstepped, which Jane found somewhat shocking. "Speaking of unsavory conversation topics…"

Maura pursed her lips. "Well, anyway, I guess by now you've heard of Dignity?"

"Like…as a concept?"

"No, the group. Dignity. It's an organization for LGBT Catholics."

"What? That exists?"

"It's existed since the late 1960s. I believe it began in San Francisco, but it's headquartered in Boston now. I think."

"How do you know it? Are you Catholic, too?"

"Oh, no. Raised atheist by atheist parents, and more interested in the study of religion as a cultural curiosity than a spiritual lifestyle," Maura said. "But I was involved with the campus LGBT center at Stanford for a while, and one of my good friends there was Catholic. She said having Dignity was life-changing."

Jane pretended to be preoccupied with cleaning up her spilled coffee. How had it never occurred to her to look for other gay Catholics before? How many were there? How many had been in her congregation growing up, also scared and silent and in denial? Were there many in Boston? She could probably get a lot more back-and-forth on theology with them than with someone like Maura. The thought of finding some to talk to made her strangely emotional; she pivoted the conversation.

"Um. I've only lived on my own for about a year," Jane said. "I shared a bedroom with both of my brothers for pretty much their whole lives, so as long as I can remember. They had a bunk bed and the most privacy I had was the pink canopy my mom got for my bed because it was so girly and pretty. I wanted it to be more like a fort," she sighed. "At the academy, I didn't really give myself the luxury of obsessing over my love life or lack thereof. I graduated, was finally able to move out, and work became my excuse for not going out much."

"What does your family make of you working in such a traditionally masculine profession?"

Jane snorted. "Ma gets a little nervous sometimes just because it can be dangerous, but overall, you kidding me? If there's anything my folks love as much as God, it's the military and police. My Ma even works in the café down at the precinct."

"I see," Maura said for the third time in so many minutes.

"Should I be worried that you seem to be saying that a lot?" Jane chuckled. "What's it a tell for?"

She was unaware that she'd repeated herself so many times. "Sorry, I guess that's what I say when I feel a response is warranted, but that I need time to process before giving a detailed answer." In this case, Jane—or at least her family—was giving off some relationship red flags, but Maura was keen to push past her typical comfort zone and learn more about Jane's feelings before either of them closed up.

"Ah, I see," Jane teased her. "Well, look. Why don't you just tell me what's on your mind right now? Process out loud."

Processing was usually something Maura considered to be a private activity, but it seemed like a fair request. "Okay. Correct me if I'm wrong: since moving out, you've come more to believe that acting on homosexual desires isn't inherently sinful. And that, despite being taught that a person is gay only if they have intercourse with someone of the same gender, you no longer believe that?"

Again, Jane needed a moment to ensure she followed. "Right, yeah. I mean, when you wanted me to give you a lap dance at that party, I was about ready to give you one!" she laughed. "That's pretty gay, isn't it?"

Maura smiled, glad to see that Jane appeared genuine in her amusement. "Well, it's not very heterosexual, I'll grant you that. So, your inhibitions about dating a woman stem more from a fear of your parents' disapproval than your own hesitation about the immorality of it?"

"Yeah, that sounds pretty accurate. I mean, Catholic guilt is a _bitch_ ," she snorted, sounding less amused this time. "But it's more my parents."

"You're close to your family?"

Jane put on what sounded to Maura like a poor impersonation of a movie mobster: "Whaddya, jokin' me? I ain't got a choice in the matter! Italian-Americans are all about three things: family, God, and _Rocky_." She cleared her throat, blushing at Maura's smile. "I may not see eye-to-eye with my parents on everything, but I don't wanna let 'em down, you know? And they'd be very let down by this. I'm supposed to be setting an example for my little brothers and all that, too."

With a shrug, Maura said, "You could set an example by showing them how to get women in a respectful manner."

"Oh! I so set myself up for that one," Jane laughed.

A long silence followed when Jane left it at that. For someone who thought so little of probing others with intimate questions, Maura herself was not inclined to share deeply personal details unless asked directly. Now, though, she felt the distinct need to share something with Jane that she'd never discussed with anyone else.

"You and I sound as though we've come from backgrounds almost as different as they could possibly be," Maura said. "All the same, I have an anecdote that might be worth sharing. My parents have never been the most attentive people. They've been distant my entire life. That has made me want to please them and impress them for as long as I've been conscious of that fact—my dad especially, because he and I have more in common. He's an academic and my mother's an artist. I applied to Stanford, his alma mater, and he was _so_ excited when I got in…" She sighed, unbidden tears welling up at the memory. "I didn't want to go to California, but I knew it was a great school and I wanted so badly to make him proud. So I went, and I planned to double major in pre-med and history, so I could take some of the history classes he'd had and get some of his old professors.

"And then when I came home at the winter break, he introduced me to an alum who had a son at Stanford, and introduced us, and I started dating him because I knew my father would be really thrilled. I mean, I _liked_ him—very handsome, very cultured, very bright. See, I'd thought maybe I was bisexual, like my mother, but by then I was starting to think I was actually a lesbian. Why did I keep dating Garrett? Because I liked him, because I wanted to spare _his_ feelings? No. Because I didn't want to let down my father. He was so happy, and I was busy enough with other things that I could handle being with Garrett.

"Anyway, to cut things short: Thanksgiving of my sophomore year, never mind how, I found out my father was having an affair. When I was younger, I took some kind of strange comfort in my parents' benign neglect of me because of how much they were invested in _their_ relationship. They were _so_ in love, I thought. It was all so romantic. But it was a lie. Here I'd gone and made all these major life decisions because I wanted him to be proud of me, to care? And he was off doing this to me, to my mother?"

"Whoa, Maura, I'm so sorry," Jane murmured.

Maura shook her head and wiped away a tear. "Yeah, not great. I broke up with Garrett, dropped the history major so I could focus more on medicine, and haven't heard from my father since."

Jane wanted to reach out and cover Maura's hand with her own, but that somehow felt like too intimate a gesture. All she could do was utter another heartfelt apology.

"I'm not totally alone," Maura sniffed. "I connected with my biological mother and sister a couple of years ago, which has been really nice. But sometimes I still get mad at my father. I get mad at the time I spent, the time I wasted trying to get the respect of a man who had no respect for me or my mother. All of that to say…" She took a deep breath. "I don't mean to imply either of your parents would ever betray your trust like that, but my point is—of course it's all well and good to want to make our parents proud, but that _cannot_ be the sole motivating factor in our major life decisions. Not if it isn't in line with our own hearts. It is not selfish, it is not sinful, to pursue happiness. No deity and no other human being can dictate what that means for you."

That cinched it: Jane reached across the table for Maura's hand. "Thank you," she said, infusing the two words with as much sincere gratitude as she could muster. "And I'm so sorry about your ass of a father."

Maura's smile widened, and she gave Jane's hand a squeeze before Jane pulled away. "Thanks."

"Phew! Um, what say we move on to something a little more chipper? What's this party you said you had tonight, an ABC party? What's that mean?"

"Oh, one of my classmates invited me. It um, it stands for Anything But Clothes."

It was Jane's turn to choke on what remained of her drink, and they spent a while debating different ensemble ideas. This eventually turned into discussion of Maura's impression of BCU so far, which itself then led to talk of Jane's Boston childhood and Stanford, a conversation that lasted long enough to annoy dozens of new customers pointedly looking at their table in vain.

It wasn't until someone muttered to a friend "those lovebirds aren't budging" that Jane realized she must look totally gone: Maura was gushing about how it had first felt to work with cadavers, a subject that in retrospect Jane imagined only could've been enjoyed by a classmate or someone with a crush. Her chin was in her hand as she listened to Maura go, wearing what must've been the world's dopiest, most lovesick grin.

When Jane straightened up, Maura glanced at her watch. "Oh, gosh! Is that the time? I've got to go!"

"Hm? But it's only 3:20; I thought you said you didn't have class till four."

Perhaps it was rude, but Maura couldn't help feeling pleased that Jane sounded disappointed. "I know, but I need time to walk to class and I like to be early."

"Can I walk you?" Jane asked. When Maura looked taken aback by this offer, she hastily added, "Sorry—is that like, some super old-fashioned guy thing to ask? I promise I won't insist on carrying your books."

But Maura was happy to take her up on it, and was also inexplicably delighted when Jane did do some old-fashioned things for her—like hold open the coffee shop door, and hold out her arm to keep Maura from crossing a street before it was safe. She didn't even seem to be conscious of doing these things. Once they had reached campus, Maura asked if she could hook her arm through Jane's under pretense of being cold.

"Oh, I'm sorry! Where are my manners?" Jane muttered. "Can I give you my jacket?"

Maura was about to say no, but was suddenly reminded of a joke she'd heard from her Catholic friend at Stanford: _what's the fastest way to get a butch to strip? Have a femme say she's cold_. With faux demureness, she accepted the offer. Jane smirked, remembering Maura's drunken rambling about the sexiness of women taking off their tops. She unzipped the jacket and turned away from Maura, making a show of removing it with much exaggerated shoulder-shimmying and flexing.

"Wow," Maura laughed, taking the jacket and slipping it on. "Rarely have I been so amused and so turned on at the same time."

It was still a huge thrill for Jane to hear she had turned a woman on. "Hey, cool," she said, unable to fight off a massive grin. "Is it okay if I put my arm through yours now, though?" The request was granted without a second thought.

Jane found herself hoping the students they passed would assume they were together, like a more positive version of the old woman who'd called in the noise complaint and had called her a slur. The comment had not been made with the kindest of attitudes, but there had been something strangely validating in getting the chance to claim that identity for herself while talking to someone she'd never see again. Walking arm-in-arm with Maura on campus felt like a gay test drive. And it felt damn nice.

"So…would you say that was a date, then?" Jane asked.

"A coffee date? A pre-date? I'd be comfortable with whatever you do or do not want to call it."

"Um…I'd really like to see you again," Jane murmured, and Maura's heartbeat rivaled a hummingbird's wings in speed. "In any capacity. But I'm like, _so…_ I dunno, naïve? I don't have a bisexual mom to show me the ropes about gay stuff," she chuckled. Lowering her voice, she added, "You could lose patience with me quick. I don't even know how two women would even like… do it." She was glad not to be facing Maura for this conversation; that helped make it slightly less awkward.

For her part, Maura found Jane's openness about her lack of experience kind of endearing, given that she seemed willing to be taught. "Well, popular culture hasn't seen it of much importance until lately to consider showing the ways women can experience pleasure without men, and also growing up in a strict Catholic household I'm not terribly surprised. I found a useful starting place to be what works for you when it's just, well, you."

The nearest student was several yards away and far out of earshot, but that was still much too close for Jane's comfort. "Uh, yeah, I dunno…"

Maura assumed that given a lifetime of repression, Jane was having trouble vocalizing her thoughts on such delicate matters, especially in a relatively public area. They had reached the building where Maura's next class was, and she withdrew her arm from Jane's and turned to face her. "Thank you for your chivalry," she said, taking off Jane's jacket.

"Oh—won't you need that when class gets out?"

"Thanks, but a friend in this class has a car and will give me a ride. We'll be shopping for our ABC costume materials, so I'll just be in a warm car and warm stores."

"Oh, okay," Jane said, slipping the jacket back on. Before her nerve could get the best of her, she asked, "Uh, if it wouldn't be too weird, would you maybe …be interested in sending me a picture of whatever outfit you go with? Like …to be clear, a picture of you wearing it. If you want. If that's not too much."

As much as the promise to send a picture, Maura's smile was an affirmation that it was not at all too much to ask. She also plucked up some courage for a request of her own: "Please feel free to turn me down if this is any way inappropriate or too much, but the next time you're free, would you like to come to my house? I can make dinner, and we can talk freely without fear of anyone overhearing what you might deem less savory conversation."

"Wow. That um, that sounds really nice, but I wouldn't want to put you out."

This wasn't an attempt to politely decline; it was an honest expression of someone who didn't want to be a burden, and Maura was able to recognize that. "I wouldn't have offered if it meant you'd be putting me out. I love to cook, and I'd love to cook for you," Maura said, giving Jane's waist a pinch.

 _SMASH CUT TO: Maura's kitchen, interior, night. Untouched ingredients sit long forgotten on the ounter, which Maura is sitting on with her legs wrapped around Jane. They are kissing like there's no tomorrow and one or both of them are topless?! What is this movie rated, again?_

Jane shook her head to clear it. "Yeah. Yeah, okay! That sounds great, really great."

"Perfect! Check your calendar and I'll text you my address."

"Cool. It's a—it's a date?"

Maura grinned. "It's a date."


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Hi, all! Sorry for the break - I got super sick and that made it really hard to find the energy to write, and then Christmas/tons of family time on top of that made it hard to get the time. But I'm sort of back up on my feet again! Hope everyone's had a good holiday and/or good December!**_

* * *

Jane's favorite thing to do on her nights off was to kick back with a beer, some chips, and some kind of mindless entertainment on Netflix. It could be fun to indulge in these sorts of evenings with her roommate and co-worker, Riley, when she was also free, but Riley was out of town for a wedding and Jane was looking forward to having the evening alone: after her emotionally exhausting if enjoyable afternoon with Maura, she was more glad than ever to have a night of solitude. It would've been especially meaningful because all her nights off lately had been spent with Casey, who took any implication that she'd like some alone time as a personal affront.

But just as she was settling down to decide which iteration of a cooking show to watch, Frost texted her that he needed a drinking buddy.

This was annoying not only because Jane wanted to be alone, but because this was yet another text—after a long string of ones from various family members—that was not a message from Maura with a saucy ABC party picture attached. Jane asked Frost if they could reschedule, but he was insistent on tonight: his parents' divorce had just been finalized, and he didn't want to be alone. This was more than fair, and Jane asked if he'd be down to come over to her place instead of going out. They could Netflix and platonically chill, he could escape his apartment without having to be around a bunch of loud bros, and they wouldn't have to overpay for drinks.

He came over with a dart board (that went unused) and a six pack and got way more into The Great British Bake Off than he could have ever anticipated. Frost drank much more than Jane, who had enough to get a little buzzed but didn't want to get trashed in case that made her say something embarrassing or crude when Maura sent a picture.

Sober, Jane probably would've remembered to keep her phone on her at all times. Buzzed, she left it on the coffee table by Frost while she put the finishing touches on some "artisanal nachos." She glanced over when Frost said "Um…?" and held up her phone, causing Jane to upend a tub of sour cream as she flailed back to the couch. She snatched the phone out of Frost's hand, throwing herself against the wall with a groan. Frost vaulted the couch for a better look, but Jane kept him at bay with her foot.

"Did some random hot girl sext you by accident?" he asked.

No, not some random girl and definitely not an accident. Accompanied by a text reading _"Now you know your ABC's,"_ there was a picture of Maura in a couture tin foil bikini, with a scarf made from what appeared to be crime scene "caution" tape. It was a selfie Maura had taken in a well-lit bathroom, ensuring a quality picture much appreciated by its recipient. Jane noticed that Maura's arms looked a little more muscular than she'd have assumed from someone so delicate, but truth be told her attention was most drawn to Maura's cleavage—the purposeful focal point of the photo.

"Yo, can I see?"

Frost's voice jarred Jane out of her reverie, and she stuffed the phone into her pocket. "No, you creep. That was for me, not you."

"Dude! You got a girl sexting you?! What happened?"

Jane stepped back into the kitchen to finish the nachos. "Doesn't it need nudity to be a sext? This is just, like, um, a … picture."

"Mm-hm, I noticed some skin showing there," Frost snorted. "So you like the T, huh?"

"What?"

"You know, when guys are all, do you like T or A?" Frost laughed, tipping his bottle at Jane. "You got your answer all set. You wanna be all up in that."

She kicked him again. "C'mon, man, don't be such a sleazeball or I'll kick you out. Just because we both like women doesn't mean I'm another dudebro you can kick back and objectify women with!"

Frost held up his hands in surrender. "Fair, fair. I'm sorry. I was just curious. Thought after years of not talking about it, you'd like to get some stuff off your chest. Ha! Your chest. Sorry."

When Jane turned away from the fridge, she was wearing a guilty grin. Sober, she'd never have indulged Frost in this conversation. Buzzed, well, her lips were a little loose. "I do like them, though, I think. And! And, we're a good a match, me and this girl—because let me tell ya, she loves my ass. She told me so the other night. And we got coffee earlier today and she was totally checking it out!"

"Niiice! Wait, so who is this? It's not your CVS hottie, is it? No way. That'd be way too crazy, right? Coo-coo? Loco?"

"It was destiny, Frost. The universe wants me to be gay, or at least gay with her. We saw each other again by total chance and I left her my number."

"So…are you gonna respond to her text, or do you want some privacy?"

Swearing, Jane thrust the plate of nachos at Frost and whipped out her phone. She swore again: that picture was going to be the death of her.

 _ **J: You look amazing. Thank you for sending this, you made my night. Totally worth the wait. Hope you're having fun!**_

Her phone buzzed about fifteen minutes later. She assumed Maura was keeping her own phone stowed in her purse, as there didn't seem to be any plausible place for it on or in her ensemble.

 _M: Thank you! I lined the bikini for comfort, but still I don't think I'll be wearing it again. A little too much going on for me to have a lot of fun and I'm trying not to party too hard as I've got class tomorrow Africa._

 _*Afternoon._

 _I showed you mine, will you show me yours?_

Jane could feel herself burning up, and Frost asked if she'd gotten another hot pic. She ignored him, redirecting his attention to the TV ("Mary Berry you classy broad, what the dickens are you saying now?!"). With him so distracted, Jane tried to think: what were her best assets? Well, more than one guy (and her mother) had offered their unsolicited opinion that her chest wasn't her best feature, so that was out—not that Jane would've felt comfortable with that anyway. Under pretense of getting up for a glass of water, Jane returned to the kitchen, lifted the hem of her shirt, and took a picture of her abs as discreetly as possible. She bit her lip, taking a moment to contemplate the picture.

 _Am I really doing this? Is this happening? Me? Sending pictures of myself to this girl I barely know?_

But in a weird way, Jane felt more connected to Maura than to many people she'd known for years. Well, maybe that wasn't all too strange, really; maybe it was the quality of the time, not the quantity, that mattered. She and Maura had talked about things Jane had never shared with anyone else before. That meant something. Also, Maura was sweet, sexy, and into her.

She sent the picture.

By the time she'd downed a much-needed full glass of water, Maura replied: _Maybe I should have been more clear. I wanted a picture of you, not the washboard you use for laundry._

Jane's blush deepened, but she couldn't fight a grin. She was in good shape, but still knew Maura was going a little overboard with her praise, and that in itself was incredibly ego-boosting.

Maura went on: _Did that make sense? It was supposed to be a component_

 _*compliment. God, you're sexy. I can't even think right anymore._

Jane wondered at what time she could ask Frost to leave without being rude. She really, really wanted to be alone right now, in a way she hadn't quite ever wanted before. There was a pleasurable pulse throbbing between her legs much more noticeably than she'd yet experienced in her life and it was very uncomfortable to be aware of that while Frost was mere feet away, providing loud commentary on The Great British Bake Off. Maybe she could excuse herself for just a moment…

J: _**Wanna see the gun show?**_

M: _?_

Jane thought Maura was being coy, when in reality Maura had no idea what the slang was for and thought she was about to be shown a firearm collection.

Jane didn't want Frost to see her posing, though, and unable to come up with an excuse for shutting herself up in the bedroom, she snuck away with hopes that she'd be back before Frost noticed. For about two seconds she considered posing in a sports bra, but lost her nerve before giving it any real consideration. Instead, she threw on a tank and spent a couple of minutes setting up a good angle for her phone to take a timed picture from her dresser. The typical flexing pose for showing off biceps would probably be fine, but unable to take herself seriously, Jane decided she might as well go all in and struck more of a body builder pose at an angle that would show off more of her back and shoulders.

She'd intended to sit on the bed and wait for a reply, but a high-pitched shriek drew her out of the bedroom.

"What'd you do?" she sighed.

"You were gone," Frost sniffed. "Why did you leave? Why did you change? Also your toilet clogged and I kinda freaked out. You're a plumber, right? Or your dad? Should we call your dad?"

Rolling her eyes, Jane stepped into the bathroom and thrust the plunger at Frost. "Here, you drunk dweeb. I'll go change again so I don't offend your delicate sensibilities."

She shut herself up in her room again and earnestly checked her phone, but to no avail. She took her time picking out a hoodie and pulling it on, and her slowness was rewarded with a blessed buzz from the nightstand.

M: _Pick me up._

Jane's heart shot up into her throat.

 _SMASH CUT TO: Ext. Maura's Friend's House, night. Jane has Maura pressed against the side of the house because they couldn't wait to get to the car. That tin foil two-piece is not built to endure much, Jane soon learns._

M: _I meant pick me up with those arms the next time I see you. I better wait till I'm sober before I say anything else or you might think my sister swiped me phone again._

"Oh, my God," Jane groaned, falling back on the bed.

If only the sound of Frost plunging the toilet wasn't quite so present. It didn't do much to help with any kind of sexy ambience when he started narrating the job. Part of Jane was sorely tempted to ask where Maura's party was so she could crash, but before she could come up with a polite way to ditch Frost, another text came through:

M: _Hello, officer (that's how you're listed in Maura's phone)—this is Maura's friend/designated driver. She's asked that I commandeer her phone to keep her from sending you any embarrassing texts she might regret tomorrow. I don't know if you kept your face hidden in this pictures on purpose or not, but I can conclusively make this a peer-reviewed study and second Maura's assertion that you are indeed a hottie with a body and I hope you're having a nice night. Warmest regards, Susie Chang_

There followed a selfie of (presumably) Susie, looking somewhat exasperated as Maura busted a move in the background. Jane sighed, and after a moment's deliberation sent a thumbs up emoji in reply. Maybe this was just as well. She almost didn't recognize herself: a week ago she'd been dating a guy with the intent of never voicing her attraction to women ever again. And now here she was, exchanging kinda sensual pictures with a hot party girl. At least, she seemed like a party girl given the majority of their interactions thus far.

The next morning, Maura texted Jane as if Jane had sent her a message with this very concern:

M: _I feel like you aren't getting a fairly accurate picture of me at the outset, here. I don't drink in excess often. Obviously my friend's bachelorette party was an exception. Last night was a little more uncharacteristic of me on a weeknight – but I didn't want to insult my friend by not showing up. It was invite-only or else I might've been tempted to ask you along, and maybe it's just as well that I didn't. I'm looking over our texts now and hoping I didn't overstep. I'm not intending to make you run before you can walk when it comes to LGBTQIA things._

There were a couple of letters in there Jane knew nothing about, but she was eager to reply in swiftness all the same: _**Hey, you're young, don't apologize for having fun :) And hey, I asked you to send me a picture in the first place so you were just following through. I think you're a great teacher for all this gay stuff so no worries :) You're not pushing me, I shared everything I wanted to. Thanks for making me do things I never thought I would.**_

They batted around potential times for their dinner date, and Maura was bummed to learn Jane had overnight shifts for the whole week. They tried to set up another coffee date for during the week, but between Maura's class schedule and Jane's promises to go on errands with Angela (which she would be eternally grilled about for breaking), no afternoons seemed to work. But a week seemed like such a long time to wait to see each other…

To this end, Jane sent a text before leaving for work: _**What do you do for exercise? Any morning routines? I like to work out in my apartment or go for runs around town, usually at eight. Any chance you'd like to join?**_ She hoped this didn't sound too clingy.

Maura's response was immediate: _Oh, that sounds wonderful! Tomorrow?_

She asked if they could meet on campus, but Jane already had some ideas from her experience about particular routes where she had encountered the least amount of cat-calling. She also recommended doing any serious stretching at home beforehand to avoid more of this.

M: _Let's hope it doesn't rain. I'd hate for that shining armor to get rusty :)_

Jane didn't usually put much thought into what she wore for working out, so long as it was comfortable. But she couldn't help feeling the pressure when their meet-up day came. Something told her Maura was going to show up in an exclusive line of luxury retail gear, looking like she'd just walked off a set for one of their commercials. When Jane arrived at their agreed-upon street corner, she saw that her guess was not far off, except perhaps for Maura's eccentric taste in footwear.

They exchanged greetings and though both were enthusiastic, they were unsure of how much excitement was proper to display and how it should be manifested. When she sensed that Maura was wondering if it would be appropriate to hug, Jane preemptively started doing some arm stretches.

"Am I not dressed appropriately?" she asked, nodding at Maura's feet. "I didn't think we'd agreed to come as mallard ducks."

Maura wiggled her feet, which were housed in toe shoes. "I haven't built up my foot muscles to the point where I could run barefoot. Early humans ran very comfortably without shoes, and research has proven that the barefoot strike pattern is much less stressful."

"That so?" Jane chuckled. "We'll see! Are you more of a runner or a jogger?"

"Depends on what my goal is for the day," Maura answered. "Today's goal is less about burning calories than trying to keep a pace that will allow me to engage in at least some sporadic conversation with you, so… maybe some jogging?"

Jane grinned. "As you wish."

They started off at a light pace, allowing Jane the opportunity to ask about Greek culture as an undergrad and Maura's friend who'd thrown the party together. Maura wanted to give herself a pat on the back for only almost tripping once for stealing a glance at Jane. The only reason Jane hadn't noticed this was because she was concentrating so hard on not doing the same: she kept her eyes on the sidewalk ahead, safe from ogling Maura's calves or biceps or hm, maybe I really am an A person, too—

She shook her head. "Um. So! Med school. What's your favorite class?"

"Well, I'm very interested in anatomy." They had reached an intersection and stopped for the moment, and Maura couldn't resist winking.

"Oh, God," Jane laughed. "Um, was that a joke?"

"Yes and no. I do really like my anatomy class, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't also very interested in yours. Your anatomy. How…" She tentatively reached out and lightly patted Jane's arm. "You have remarkable triceps."

"I do?" Jane asked, glancing down at and twisting the arm Maura had just sent a brief exciting shock through.

"Yes, I spent—well, I won't tell you how quite how long studying that second picture you sent me last night," Maura said unblushingly. "You'll have to tell me what exercises you do to work them."

Maura was saying this all with a very casual air, which Jane appreciated because it meant any pedestrians passing by would read it as one friend just asking another for workout advice. For her part, Jane was much less smooth.

"Yeah, um, you've got really nice…um, everything," she said, trying not to be too obvious by letting her gaze linger on anything(s) in particular. She wanted to reciprocate by touching one of Maura's biceps but lost her nerve at the last second, instead swinging her hand up to tuck some nonexistent hair behind her own ear. "Um, like damn, your biceps are really nice. Good job with that. With those."

"Oh, you think so?" Maura asked, flexing one. "Hey, how's this gun show?" (Susie had explained the term to her last night.)

Jane folded her arms. "I'll take two tickets."

"No tickets necessary. You're a VIP."

They could've crossed the intersection twice now. Jane cleared her throat and glanced around, again struck by being very excited by Maura's attention but wary of passersby noticing it. Maura picked up on this and wondered if it would be safer to work their way up to a run, which would make talking (and therefore flirting) much more difficult to maintain. When she suggested this, Jane arched an eyebrow and smiled in such a way that made Maura feel as if she had all of a sudden been possessed by Sappho and wanted to nothing more than feed Jane grapes and write poems about her.

"You challenging me to a race, doc?"

"That hadn't been my intent, but I'm game. Where to?"

"Did you leave your clothes at home or the BCU gym?"

"The gym."

Jane confirmed the nearest intersection to that part of campus, and they got set for the next light. At the signal change, Jane shot off like a bullet and Maura was not far behind. Again part of Maura's issue as a student of anatomy but also a very smitten woman was in admiring Jane's perfect stride. Being ahead and being more conscious of public demonstrations of interest and being incredibly competitive, Jane didn't share this problem and that was when something occurred to her. They reached another inevitable intersection which Jane figured she could've made if she'd gone for a rather unsafe few bounds; instead, she started to slow up and signaled a time-out. Maura rose her hand in agreement and caught up.

"I just realized something," Jane said, not sounding at all winded. "We didn't decide what I get when I win."

"When you win? Well someone's confident," Maura said, trying not to wheeze or double over. She couldn't feeling a tad embarrassed that she must seem so out of shape; the problem was that she hadn't had time to work herself up to a proper run. "What if I win?"

Out of politeness, Jane decided not to tease her. "Okay, what do you want if you win?"

Maura took a moment to consider it, knowing she really had a snowball's chance in hell of winning. This made her feel like she could afford to be outlandish in her request, so long as she made sure nobody was around to overhear it. She waited for a nearby woman to amble a little farther away, then she leaned closer to Jane to whisper, "I want that lap dance I didn't get at the bachelorette party."

Jane was the one feeling breathless now. Her mouth had dropped open when Maura pulled back; she glanced at the intersection and figured she still had a few seconds left. "I think I need a second to come up with what I want when I kiss your ass. KICK…your ass."

Maura bit her lip. "Oh, you're so cute," she chuckled under her breath.

 _SMASH CUT TO: Ext. A slightly forested area on the other side of the street, day. As per Maura's request Jane is picking her up and holding her against a tree, with Maura's legs wrapped around her waist and kissing her everywhere._

"I want to kiss you," Jane murmured, and Maura's eyebrows rose with a hopeful smile. "I mean—if I win, I'd like to kiss you. Oh God, I mean, only if you'd be into that, though," she hastily added, realizing how creepy and dominating that could have sounded.

"Jane, you could win, lose, or tie and I'd want you to kiss me."

Jane's grin felt too wide for her face and the sensation of a balloon inflating inside her chest made her wonder if she would, in fact, be able to run aptly in a moment. It was hard to explain that she wanted to set this goal for herself as much as for Maura. Putting the desire out there in such an explicit manner tied her to it; voicing it to another person—in particular the person she wanted to kiss—would make it harder for her to talk herself out of it. This was a commitment as much as a challenge.

They shook hands, the light changed again, and Jane ran with renewed purpose. She won easily.

Maura flopped onto the grass as Jane did a couple more light stretches. "How are those toed shoes workin' out for ya, then?"

"Shut up," Maura laughed.

Jane held out her hand and helped Maura up. "You put up a good fight there, doc. Till Monday night, then—enjoy your anatomy class, and enjoy _my_ anatomy as I walk away."


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N:** Phew, meant to update sooner but I had some issues with this chapter and then sickness struck again ('tis the season!). Here's a long chapter to make up for it. I wanted to keep this story short because I was afraid my muse would be difficult to sustain, so thank you for sticking with it to this point! :)_

* * *

Jane was glad she had all of Monday off, because she needed every possible minute of it to get herself prepared—emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually—for her date at Maura's.

This still felt like a dream in some ways: she had a date with a woman. A date. After years of just accepting that she'd live in the closet forever, here she was on the flip of a dime getting ready for a date at a woman's house?

Well, maybe it wasn't a total flip of a dime yet. Jane still couldn't at all imagine telling her roommate, or anyone in her family, or really anybody but Frost about her exhilaration. Maybe she'd catch a little more of her mother's giddiness if Angela would excitedly help her get ready for _this_ date, the way she had tried to insist on going shopping with Jane and taking her to a salon before her first date with Casey (which had been at a bowling alley). But it was useless to ruminate on such fantasies at the moment; all it did was curdle her insides with anxiety.

She pivoted to a different kind of anxiety, a much more enticing one: the thought of kissing Maura. In the past, she had felt nothing but panic even when all she did was angst over whether she'd admired the looks of an actress or teacher or classmate _too_ much; whether there was something different about her tone or expression when she complimented a woman's looks after her mother or an assuredly straight friend had. But the plan to kiss Maura did not rack her with fear or guilt. All she felt was a bubbly excitement, which was in and of itself a relief.

Maybe part of it had to do with moving out on her own. Without her parents' intermittently toxic ideas being floated by her ears like a homophobe you couldn't unfollow on Facebook, Jane was able to let her own ideas marinate a bit more. She was a touch freer to explore her identity bit by bit.

An unexpected aspect of this meant she was easing up on long-held hatred of certain "girly" things, hatred often borne more from a desire to upset her mother than from an actual dislike of a given thing. Pink might not ever be part of her wardrobe, and she'd never sleep under a canopy again, but for example Jane found herself becoming more amenable to dresses.

She had decided that was what she was wearing tonight: a form-fitting, sleeveless black dress she'd bought on her last shopping trip with her mother. She'd wondered if Maura would like to see the suit again, but this would give her the chance to see Jane in something new, and furthermore it showed off the arms Maura so clearly admired. Jane twisted around in front of the mirror to check her backside and yep, the dress showed that off pretty darn well, too.

There was not a single other instance from her life where she could recall thinking _Jane Rizzoli, you are one beautiful bastard!_ to her reflection.

She changed back into sweats to run a couple of errands. Maura had refused to let her bring a side dish or dessert (which was probably wise), but Jane still wanted to at least bring _some_ thing, which was led her to the nearest wine shop. Her family wasn't really one for wine, so she wasn't as familiar with it as she might have been with other types of drinks, but something in her gut told her wine would be the choice for Maura. After a lot of indecisive pacing she went with a Chardonnay and hoped it wouldn't taste too cheap.

On her way back home, Jane passed a flower shop and got a brainwave. Hadn't one of her first texts to Maura said that in a perfect world, she'd show up with flowers on Maura's porch for a date? The thought of getting a bouquet from a guy had never charmed her, but she felt her heart flutter at the idea of bringing Maura one. Before she could stop, she found herself inside the shop.

Roses drew her attention first, but that seemed cliché, like something Casey would've picked for her without any thought. Maura deserved some consideration. Jane pulled her phone out to google some ideas, and was comforted to see she wasn't the first person to look up romantic flowers besides roses—but then, how was trusting some random website any better than just going with roses for their recognizability? Again, Jane felt prompted to go with intuition. She put her phone away and took a deep breath: time to go rogue.

She was just waiting for something to grab her eye, based on aesthetics or perhaps somehow something that reminded her of Maura. How could she phrase that to the florist, though? _Hi, I'm looking for something feminine and strong? Something that smells sweet but distinct? Something that makes you want to throw up but in a good way?_ To her surprise, roses were the only flowers she could recognize by sight, and even most of these names weren't familiar…

One of the first things they'd talked about was the beauty of autumn leaves, and with their colorful diversity in mind, Jane's eyes were drawn to an assortment of dahlias. She'd never seen petals layered like that before, and the deep burgundy looked so beautiful next to the pinks, fading into purple and white. They looked classy but not fragile—definitely a fit for Maura. Jane picked a bouquet and tried to quell the spring in her step as she walked over to the cashier.

It took her longer than usual to get home because she kept getting distracted and missing turns. She was consumed with innocent thoughts, innocent memories: the way Maura's smile was reflected in her eyes; how nicely her arm had fit through Jane's; the light but genuine way she laughed. Maybe Jane wasn't ready to share the reason behind her own smile with anyone else yet, but its existence—and the warm, exciting feeling which accompanied it—seemed to indicate that all was not lost.

And now, just several hours to kill.

The date was a little later than would've been ideal, but Maura couldn't bring herself to cut class or leave early, and she wanted the timing of everything to be perfect. She was determined for Jane's first real date with a woman to be an unqualified success from start to finish, sumptuous and enticing and unforgettable in every way. As she hurried from one stovetop to the other and paused to apply makeup by looking at her reflective toaster, it dawned on Maura that maybe she was putting too much pressure on herself. But she couldn't help it; she felt an insatiable need to make Jane happy, to make those deep brown eyes light up and those bashful dimples appear.

Maura had spent a considerable amount of time picking not only the menu (the entrée was a chicken dish with an autumnal apple-based sauce) but her attire and the place settings and the music (Brazilian jazz). Everything was looking and smelling great—including herself, she thought, winking at her reflection in the toaster.

The doorbell rang, and Maura went to answer it in a flurry of excitement.

They both took a moment to size each other up. Maura was also wearing a dress, burgundy with lace trim on the collar, an impressive combination of classy and alluring which helped Jane feel like she wasn't overdressed. Maura's hair somehow looked longer than it had before, and it still shone as though spun from gold. For all the world Jane had wanted to be smooth and cool when Maura opened the door, but instead she found herself gaping and horribly self-conscious, not sure what to do with her arms or if she was standing straight enough.

"Hi," Jane breathed, holding the wine out. "You look incredible, wow. Here's a, um, I brought this. You seem like a… do you like wine? Not in a—I don't mean in an alcoholic way," she hurried. "I just meant, uh, classy."

Maura smiled, inviting Maura inside. "Chardonnay! Thank you for the wine and the compliment. You look gorgeous."

"You sound surprised," Jane chuckled.

"I admit I'm surprised to see you in a dress! But you look so nice. I wouldn't have thought it easy to ride a motorcycle in a dress, let alone with a bottle of wine."

"Oh, I borrowed my buddy's car. I haven't really mastered the art of dress-motorcycle-riding and I didn't want to get helmet hair. I um, I actually told this friend about this date," she said, her own grin widening at the smile this elicited. "I'm not sure he'd have leant me the car for anything less important. He's the only person—besides you, I mean—who knows I'm, uh, not straight."

"I'm glad he's someone you can talk to," Maura said, pouring the wine. With a teasing look she asked, "What did you tell him about me?"

"Oh gosh, um…I dunno," Jane mumbled, though she was still smiling. To her embarrassment, all she could remember telling Frost about were Maura's physical attributes. "I told him I met someone at CVS who took my breath away. That was the second night you and I met, actually. When I told him about you, I mean. Now that I think about it, it could've been him who answered that noise complaint."

Maura handed Jane a glass. "I'm glad it wasn't."

Was her tone sultry, or was Jane's imagination already going into hyperdrive? She took a hearty gulp of wine and tried pivoting the conversation away from herself. "Sooo, enough about me. How was class today?"

"Enlightening." She wanted to add something to the effect of " _I had trouble concentrating, though, because I was thinking so much about tonight"_ , but she paused for too long and Jane swooped in with another question in hopes of staving off awkward silence.

"We never got around to talking about why you're in med school. What kind of doctor do you want to be?"

"I hope this doesn't put you off too much, but my plan is to be a medical examiner."

"Why would that put me off?" Jane asked, puzzled.

"Well, my bedside manner leaves much to be desired. I believe I'd be best suited working on patients who are already dead." Maura took a long sip to steady her nerves, then had to work hard to mask her reaction to the poor wine. "When the body isn't alive, there's no pressure to do anything but the job. No patients or family to console, no fear or pain in the eyes while you problem solve …oh God, I must sound so cold," she muttered into her glass.

It took Jane a moment longer to respond than she'd have liked. "No, it doesn't sound cold! Hey, someone's gotta do it, it's important work. You bring closure to a lot of people that way, and that's not a cold thing at all. And hey! I'm aiming to get into homicide, so if you stay in Boston, maybe we'll work together someday!"

Maura had to smile at Jane's enthusiasm. "Detective, hm? Has a nice ring to it."

"Thanks, I think so! I mean, I hope so. My buddy Frost—the guy whose car I borrowed—he wants to get in there, too, but man he's gotta build up a tolerance for blood and guts and stuff first. Hey, do they ever allow visitors to your cadaver classes? Maybe being in there would help him get used to it."

"It sounds like you're joking, but immersion therapy does actually have a very high success rate," Maura said. "He should go down to the morgue to give that a go. It helped me a great deal, immersion therapy."

"Yeah? What were you afraid of?"

"People," Maura admitted, and Jane's expression softened. "I suppose it had to do with benignly neglectful parents, and rude schoolmates. I'm much better now than I used to be. I forced myself to go out, to be social. That's why I joined a sorority as an undergrad. I found my niche in time."

Jane took a thoughtful sip of wine. "Huh. Maybe _I_ should try immersion therapy, like with all this gay stuff. Know any good lesbian mosh pits?"

Maura put down her glass and walked over to Jane's side of the table. "You don't need a mosh pit to immerse yourself in 'the gay,' Jane. I could recommend a good local club if you're interested, though."

All of a sudden it felt to Jane like she'd drunk way more than she really had. "Mm. Maybe. I kinda think I might need to work my way up to that, though. Any ideas on how I could start off?"

Her voice was pitched low out of quiet nerves, not as an attempt to sound sexy, but the effect was the same regardless. Maura bit her lip to keep herself from saying something like _I can't wait to make your body feel as good as mine does when you talk like that._

"Some."

Jane's heart lodged itself in her throat when Maura oh so gently took hold of her waist and moved in closer. The ball was in Jane's court, she knew, but she remained speechless when she could not swallow her heart back down to its rightful place, and she was rendered immobile by the faint meadowy fragrance Maura was wearing and how smoothly she had slid into Jane's closely guarded personal space.

Maura sensed that Jane needed further prompting. "You won our race the other day. I assumed you didn't want to claim your prize then because we were in public, and I am totally sympathetic to that. Are you ready now?"

No smash cut, no script to follow: this was real life, it was really happening. Fear pricked at Jane, but it was being held at bay by desire—a pure, innocent desire to make good on this swooping sensation that started in her stomach and was barreling itself in all directions.

This all would've been fine and good if she hadn't forgotten she was still holding a wine glass. When Jane went to put her hands on Maura's waist, the glass knocked against the table and almost fell to the floor—but Jane's reflexes were quick; she stumbled to make sure she caught the glass, and was relieved that somehow none of the wine spilled in her clumsiness. So, she felt only moderately stupid until she straightened up and her head knocked into Maura's boobs. And then a timer in the kitchen went off, making Jane jump and almost sending the glass out of her hands.

Moment killed. A bloodbath. Remains of the moment all over the place. Multiple contusions. One suspect.

"Oh, now see, I almost timed that perfectly," Maura joked, trying to ease the tension. She went to the kitchen to turn off the timer, but stayed there more to give Jane a private moment to regroup than anything else.

"A closeted spaz," Jane mumbled, putting her glass safely on the table. "You sure you don't want to reconsider all that stud in shining armor stuff?"

"I might if you keep being so self-deprecating," came Maura's voice from the kitchen.

Jane winced. "Man. Can I start this date over? Oh, crap. Wait, geez, I actually left something in the car—"

To Maura's surprise, Jane bounded back outside without another word. She couldn't imagine what could possibly be so important to draw Jane away with such abruptness, and figured she might as well put the food out. Eating would give them something to do, which would hopefully ameliorate some of the awkwardness. But then Jane reappeared, having shed her jacket this time, and also holding a bouquet of dahlias. Jane faltered under Maura's stunned gaze, worried for a moment that the flowers might have been a huge misstep.

"I, um, I got these for you," Jane stammered, trying to stay calm and not thrust the flowers at her. "I hope that's not too lame or cheesy or anything. I was just walking by the flower shop and wanted to get you s-something."

Maura took the bouquet and inhaled, an un-fakeable smile covering her face. "It's not lame or cheesy. Nobody's ever gotten me flowers before, actually."

"What? Really? Not even that preppie guy at Stanford?"

"Not even the preppie guy at Stanford," Maura chuckled, returning to the kitchen to find something to put the flowers in. "These are just beautiful, oh my goodness. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Thank _you_ for dinner! Wow, this looks amazing…"

They swapped war stories about cooking as they started to eat—it was one of Maura's favorite things to do, and one of Jane's favorite things to watch on TV while she ate junk food. Maura got going about the elaborate dinner parties her parents used to throw, and while Jane wanted to be invested and listening, she struggled to focus. Not because Maura was boring; in fact, the opposite was the problem. Jane was afraid she'd missed her window to kiss her tonight. Maura had given her the perfect opportunity and she blew it. Would Maura be up for taking the initiative again? Jane couldn't help fearing that she herself would not have the courage to make that move, not after being such a klutz the first time around.

Eventually Maura noticed Jane's troubled expression, but she misinterpreted it and felt prompted to reissue a particular invitation. "Jane? Is there anything you'd like to ask me? I mean, since we're alone, and you don't have to worry about any passersby overhearing us? Anything about 'the gay stuff' as you might say?"

It took Jane a moment to realize Maura had been directly addressing her, and another moment to realize what she'd offered. "Oh. That's really nice of you, but I'm afraid I'd just ask you a bunch of really stupid, naïve, embarrassing stuff."

"I don't want to embarrass you," Maura said seriously. "But I can assure you that you don't need to worry about sounding naïve or stupid. Asking questions is how we learn, and I am very invested in helping you learn about this."

 _SMASH CUT TO:_ nothing, because Jane's mind is fried with the possibilities.

Meanwhile, it just registered with Maura how suggestive her comment could have sounded. "I'm sorry, I meant—that wasn't supposed to be a wink-wink thing. I mean, feel free to interpret it however you want, I guess," she added, only partly joking, "but I just meant it as an invitation to—"

"Ask you stuff, yeah," Jane said. "I mean, thank you, really. I'd like to take you up on it, I just don't know where to start."

 _What clothes do lesbians wear? What movies do they like? What kind of underwear do they like? How do you find other women like you? What music should I listen to? How many women have you slept with and what is it like? How does the sex actually work? What positions exist that I've never even heard of? How can you tell when a woman is gay? Do I give off any signs? What drinks do lesbians order? What do you think of the word queer? How should I feel about labels? When did your mom tell you she was bi, was it hard for her? Has she dated any women? Have you ever been in love?_

Maura was ready to change the subject to make Jane more comfortable when Jane at last decided to ask something that seemed safe: "So like, you've had girlfriends before, then?"

"One, yes, at Stanford. I dated around quite a bit before I met her, though. We went out for a little over a year and a half. When I told her I was set on coming back east for med school, she thought it'd be best if we broke up because she had no intention of leaving California and I wasn't interested in pursuing something long-distance when I wasn't sure I'd go back." Maura shrugged. "We ended on pretty good terms, all things considered. I put myself out there again just for fun a few times before I moved out here."

Jane nodded, pushing food around on her plate and wishing she was hungrier. The types of questions coming to her now were not at all appropriate, even if Maura professed to be happy to answer anything. Eventually she asked, "So …I mean, you are so beautiful and smart and doing amazing stuff, I'm sure any woman would be thrilled to go out with you. Like, out women who know what all the letters in the acronym stand for, women who know how to date other women." She tried not to let insecurity pester her, but her voice got quieter all the same: "So why me? I mean, why are you… why do you have any interest in me?"

It didn't at all sound like a mere request for an ego boost, leading Maura to take her time considering her answer. "Well, I stand by the first thing I texted you, which was that I find you very sweet and very sexy. Diana—my ex—" (And this didn't help, because for Jane it conjured an image of the only Diana she knew, Wonder Woman, as her competition) "—would only consider dating women with her same level of experience, for lack of a better word. I can see why she'd want to do that, but it doesn't really fit for me. I can't help who I'm attracted to, and I'm very attracted to you."

This ought to have been a very encouraging response, so Jane wasn't sure why she still felt lost. Maybe more detail would've helped? She looked up when Maura gently said her name.

"You're over-thinking it. Please correct me if I'm wrong, but It's my impression that for years, you've done nothing but repress your impulses—impulses you now might consider more as instincts, ones to follow up on instead of hide. I don't see somebody scared or cheesy when I look at you. I see someone thoughtful and interesting. Someone ready to grow in to who she was born to be."

The calm deliberateness of Maura's tone was a greater affirmation than anything Jane had heard yet. She felt light-headed, buzzed, but not from the wine.

"You know," Jane murmured, starting to eat again, "I never really thought of myself as a very romantic person, because I wasn't into dating and boys the way my Ma wanted me to be. The way she kept telling me one day I _would_ be." She sank into an imitation of her mother, the accuracy of it lost on Maura though she laughed anyway: "'Janie, someday you're gonna _looove_ makeup! Someday you're gonna want all the boys looking at you! Someday you're gonna love dresses and getting your hair done!' But that day never came, and I kept feeling like more and more of a freak because of it. But sometimes I look back and I think, no, I really _was_ a romantic all along, I just didn't know it because I couldn't show it the way I wanted to."

"So how do you qualify that?"

Jane shrugged. "I dunno, some of it is innocent, ignorant stuff when I was a kid, like the crush on my teacher I told you about. I guess I was kind of a teacher's pet in elementary school, if the teacher was a woman and young and nice and pretty," she added, though it felt kind of shallow to say. "It wasn't about wanting the teacher to think I was a good student, though. I mean it was, but it was more than that. I wanted her to be impressed with me. And I'd do stuff for my friends, too, girl friends. I didn't have very many of them, especially after middle school, but I always wanted to go the extra mile for them. I never thought it was weird at the time, because of course you're gonna be nice to your friends, but looking back I'm pretty sure it was that feeling of wanting them to be impressed. Something to make me stand out a little bit more from their other friends. The big thing would be movies, though."

Maura looked surprised. "You've seen gay movies?"

"Oh, God no!" Jane laughed. "No way. The closest I ever got to that was watching some teen comedy with my aunt and cousins, and my aunt skipped a scene where two of the girls almost kissed—not 'cause they were gay, but just 'cause one was teaching the other one how to kiss. My cousin told me afterwards that's why we skipped it. I guess all the other sex stuff was okay, like the jokes and whatever, but that'd be crossing the line."

"Oh, dear…"

"Yeah. No, what I meant was just that I like action movies and stuff, but even when I was a kid, I would always be excited for the kiss. I pretended to be grossed out or annoyed, like my brothers, but I always loved it. Sometimes," she admitted with a laugh, "I'd even go back and watch the kissing scene again after everyone else had gone to bed. It's kind of embarrassing, I know. I guess at the time I was embarrassed because it made me feel girly, and I didn't wanna be girly. But, like …I think it's more that I just really wanted that. I really craved it. I really wanted to get kissed and feel the way I felt just _watching_ good kisses in the movies, y'know? But that never happened. Still hasn't happened."

Maura felt like she'd been an issued a challenge, but she was up to the task. She smiled at Jane, hoping to allay some of her self-consciousness. "Any particular clichés you liked?"

It was good to see Jane smiling again. "Hmm, let's see. Well, kissing in the rain, obviously. Reconciliation kisses. First kisses."

"I agree, first kisses are nice," Maura said with a coy smile. Jane blushed, but still looked pleased. "I always liked the kisses in movies where someone—it's hard to describe. Not quite a fake-out, but you think they're about to kiss and then something interrupts them, or one loses their nerve, and so they have to come back to it later and that makes the kiss spontaneous. Yeah, spontaneous kisses, that's what I'd call them. As long as it's clear both parties are into it, of course."

And there came Jane feeling like _she'd_ been an issued a challenge. The irony of it was that Maura was not at all intending to pressure Jane; those really were just her favorite kind of scripted kisses to see. Jane felt like she'd all but added "hint, hint" at the end there while Maura was blissfully unaware of the impact she had made. She went on to recommend some of her favorite lesbian movies for Jane to watch, leaving Jane to wish she could concentrate on the conversation much more. Right now her main concern was getting food in her mouth without dropping any on her plate while also checking all of her inner reserves for courage to kiss Maura—and to figure out when.

 _Would it be_ _too_ _spontaneous if I flipped the table over to get to her and just kissed her right now? Yeah, probably…_

To take the pressure off of engaging too much, she asked Maura more about herself. This was a good distraction for a few reasons: Jane got the impression that Maura didn't get much opportunity to talk about things like her childhood. She liked hearing about people's youths because it informed so much of who they became, and Jane had always been curious about people. This person in particular was fascinating. Considering the neglect that had dotted Maura's childhood, it seemed amazing that she had turned out so kind and cheerful.

Maura batted back with more questions about Jane's line of work (figuring it seemed safer than delving into family matters), and the conversation got them through dinner and dessert. She supposed dessert would have been a good opportunity to suggest moving to the couch for a somewhat more informal setting, but she'd been too engrossed hearing about the police academy to have the presence of mind for the idea until the optimal moment had passed.

That discontent did not linger, however, because it felt so nice to just sit and talk with someone like this. Neither of them could remember someone who had made them lose track of time like this, and Jane was astounded to glance at the clock and realize it was almost midnight.

"Didn't you say you had an early class? I should really get going."

"No, you don't have to," Maura said, attempting to stifle a poorly-timed yawn.

Jane smiled, knowing by now that Maura was not disingenuous in her remark. "In theory I'd like to stay way longer, but I'd hate to leave you anything but well-rested for class. I'm sure you need all your wits about you for med school at BCU." In an effort to prolong the evening, though, she did ask, "Can I stay and help you clean up, though?"

Maura's mother would have told her it was extremely rude to expect guests to help with such a task, but Maura was delighted to take her up on it. Jane washed dishes and Maura dried them, and as they continued to talk and laugh, Jane thought maybe the kitchen would be a good place for another try at that kiss. Nothing could possibly happen that would be more awkward than accidentally head-butting the girl's boobs, right?

It was the night Jane learned not to tempt fate.

Maura handed Jane a dish towel to dry her hands once they were finished. "Thanks for a great evening," Jane murmured. "I really had a nice time."

"Me too," Maura said. "Do you think we could get lunch or something later this week?"

"I'd love that, doc," Jane replied with so much sincerity it made Maura beam. "Hey, you know what I just realized? I don't know your last name."

"Oh," Maura laughed. "It's Isles."

"Maura Isles. Wow. I know this is a cliché line, but that's a really beautiful name."

"Mm, it's more of a cliché _pick-up_ line, I think," Maura said, taking the towel from Jane's hands and laying it on the counter behind Jane. This brought them only a few inches apart, a fact Maura hoped Jane would take full advantage of. "You've already got me, officer. You don't need a line."

There was the wind-up and the pitch: time to connect with the ball. Jane willed her hand not to tremble as she raised it to cup Maura's face—but then her peripheral vision caught sight of a dinosaur.

"WHAT the _hell?!"_ She jumped and instinctively pushed Maura behind her, then realized she was staring down some kind of reptile. "What the—how—what is _that_ , and how did it get in your house?!"

Looking pained, Maura stepped out from behind Jane and went to crouch by her pet. "Shh, you'll scare him."

" _I'll_ scare—?! What? What even _is_ he?"

"This is Bass. I've had him since he was small enough to fit in my hand. I'm sorry he startled you," she said, straightening up and indeed looking very apologetic. "He's a wonderful pet, very quiet and he doesn't ask for much. And, ah," she sighed. "I forgot to check on his food when I got home. He likes British strawberries, would you like to feed him one?"

Jane eyed the creature warily. She knew it was too slow an animal to be able to inflict any sort of harm, but she found him much more menacing looking than Maura did. Furthermore, her humiliation at overreacting and ruining yet another golden opportunity for a kiss was excruciating and too much to endure. "Uh, y'know, I think turtle-feeding is more of a second or third date thing. I think I'd better go."

She was out of the kitchen before Maura could the terminology. "Jane, wait, you don't have t—"

Jane was already by the door. "Nah, it's okay, it's crazy late! Thanks again for dinner, it was great. I'll text you tomorrow!"

Texting would afford her the opportunity to take time to compose an apology for her clumsiness tonight, and so she left before she could make more of an ass of herself—but she'd barely made it past Maura's front steps before realizing she'd already done so: it was quite cold outside and she'd left her jacket hanging by Maura's door. She was trying to decide whether it would be more embarrassing to go back in for it or to mention it in a text tomorrow, and was leaning towards the latter option when she heard the door open behind her.

And then, in what didn't even feel like a conscious decision, Jane found herself turning on her heel and hurrying back up the steps.

Maura was standing in the doorway, holding Jane's jacket. "You forgot your—"

Jane took Maura's face in her hands and kissed her.

In an instant, Jane's jacket was dropped to the porch and Maura's arms slipped around Jane's neck. Jane felt like she was somehow tripping while standing up straight; she needed to steady herself, and did so by moving one hand to Maura's waist and the other to the door, pressing Maura to the door and herself against Maura without breaking the kiss.

When kissing Maura had only been an idea, Jane had wanted to catalogue everything she felt, but again theory was proving much more feasible than practice: Maura's touch somehow seemed to be everywhere, and Jane found herself affected by things she hadn't even thought to fantasize about, like that whimper of a moan eking out from the back of Maura's throat. She felt heady.

Jane broke off the kiss with a shuddering sigh. "Holy shit."

Maura bit her lip, her arms still around Jane's neck, breathing heavy. "Jane?"

Jane's eyes met hers, and a slow smile appeared. "Better than the movies."


	7. Chapter 7

Tits or ass? Why just tits or ass? Could guys really be that shallow, that unappreciative? What about dimples? What about noses? What about hips and freckles and the curve of her back and her neck and everything else Jane was dying to kiss? Did conjuring up the ideas of these random body parts make her sound like a serial killer?

If she'd thought a torrent of emotions had bowled her over in anticipation of their date, Jane could not have prepared herself for the maelstrom afterwards. The best part was that she felt so giddy, so elated, so _excited_ by all the possibilities lain out by her bravery that it left no room for guilt or fear. All she could think about were things she wanted to do.

She wanted to go on a road trip somewhere, anywhere, with Maura. She wanted to tour her around Boston, but not the Freedom Trail or Walden or any of those places a tourist would know about—all of Jane's own favorite haunts, shops and parks and restaurants. She wanted to take Maura to the movies and put her arm around her shoulders. She wanted to introduce Maura to every single person who had ever had an impact on her life so they could bask in each other's amazingness. She wanted to make her bunny-shaped pancakes on the weekends. She wanted to crash someone's wedding just so they could dance to a bunch of cheesy songs together.

And oh, God, the things she wanted to do _to_ that girl…

Was it normal or obsessive to feel this strongly after one kiss? Jane had an inkling it was leaning towards the latter, but she'd never experienced anything like this before, not even close.

Perhaps the oddest part was that while half of Jane wanted to shout about her phenomenal date from every street corner, the other half wanted to keep it all a secret. Stranger still, this wasn't because she was ashamed or afraid of what people might say if they knew; rather, it was almost like this date had been sacred, a consecration in a way. Her first real go at being true to herself and following that dream was holy to her.

This was why she shared no juicy details with Frost when she returned his car, even as he served up a nonstop barrage of questions about it.

The next day, she went on Facebook for the first time in three years to look up Maura. No dice. A ripple of disappointment passed through her, as she wondered what sorts of candid pictures she might have found there. She'd been wondering what sorts of posts Maura would make—did she like to be witty or serious online? Maybe not online at all (she thought, setting up an Instagram account purely for the purpose of searching yet again in vain for Maura).

Jane's insides gave a pleasurable squirm when her phone buzzed with a text from Maura, and the feeling intensified when she read the text: _I've been thinking about that kiss all day_.

 _ **J: Me too.**_

 _M: You said you had today off too, right? I won't be able to get home until about 9:30 tonight, but would you have any interest in coming over for a little while?_

 _ **J: Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes.**_

Maybe because she had less time to stress over it, Jane didn't feel at all the same amount of pressure that she had before their first date. All she felt was pure adrenaline, nothing but excitement at the prospect of getting to kiss Maura again.

Because it was so last minute and so late (Maura wouldn't be getting home until 9:30), Jane also didn't put pressure on herself to dress up. She did take her time, though, picking which flannel was the most flattering to her figure and which jeans best showed off her ass. For the first time in her life she wished she had some accessories to choose from - nothing like the jewelry that had been foisted on her by her mother and extended family that hadn't bothered trying to get her gifts she wanted; things like cuffs or studded belts or whatever else cool lesbians wore to look cool and be gay. Ties? Did they wear ties? She was pretty sure she'd seen Ellen Page wear a tie once. But maybe only with a suit.

When she showed up on Maura's porch that evening, though, it was clear that she could've shown up in a burlap sack and Maura would've been pleased.

There was a slightly awkward pause when Jane came in, as both of them wondered how intimate their greeting ought to be at this point. Neither of them liked hugging, and a kiss on the cheek somehow seemed too familiar and too formal at the same time. All that considered, Jane was glad she'd brought an icebreaker:

"Hey, I hope you like cannoli," she said, holding out a bag. "This is from my family's favorite place, Mama's. Everything they make is incredible, but I've had a soft spot for these since I was a kid." When Maura's expression belied nothing but perhaps a short fuse, Jane asked, "Do you um, sorry, do you not like cannoli?"

Maura snapped out of it. "Oh, these look delicious!" she said, going into the kitchen for a plate to put them on. In all honesty she had never been fond of pastries, but Jane seemed so excited to share them with her, it felt cruel to turn her down. "Would would be best to drink with them? I'd rather not have coffee this late night. Maybe a sweet wine?"

She was surprised when this elicited a laugh from Jane. "I'm sorry, you've already out-classed me just by putting them on a plate. At my house it'd just be a melee to get your hand in the bag first. And wine makes it seem so much fancier than it really is. Maybe—well, milk might be too rich. Water should do it."

They ate in silence for a few moments, and Maura was pleasantly surprised by how much she was enjoying the cannoli. "These really are good, wow! So have you lived here your whole life, then? I mean, if this has been your favorite since you were a kid?"

"Yep, Boston born and bred."

"Do you like it here? I mean," Maura hastened to add at Jane's incredulous expression, "I don't know, some people can't wait to get out of their hometowns and never look back. Where'd you go to college?"

"Didn't do the whole college thing," Jane scoffed. "I mean, junior college, yeah. It was more like thirteenth and fourteenth grade." She took a long sip of water, hoping she hadn't just voiced a dealbreaker. Maura was indeed taken aback and trying not to show it, cuing Jane to feel the need to impress her. "I did get in to BCU, though." That seemed to do it. "Just wanted to see if I could."

"Wow! That's amazing, good for you!"

Jane laughed, looking away. "Thanks. I've actually never told anyone that before."

"What? Not even—surely you must've told your parents?"

"Nah, I couldn't," Jane said casually. "My Pop would've spent every dime he had to send me there, and I couldn't do that to him. I mean, even if we hadn't had his sick elderly mother living with us to look after and pay medical bills for, BCU would've been way too much."

Maura took another cannoli to give herself a moment to respond. She had grown up surrounded by only the wealthiest families stateside and abroad, and was realizing to her shame that she had never given much thought to other classes outside of abject poverty. Her own tuition had been paid for with as much casual assurance as a middle-class family buying a candy bar for their child. She'd overheard a sorority sister or two laughing about student loans, but Maura hadn't given it much thought.

Jane shrugged in the silence. "You go to college to get a degree to get a job, right? I didn't need four years at a university to become a cop. Nice in theory but not worth getting into serious debt over."

"I wish college was more accessible," Maura said, feeling awkward. "It's such a good way to have your ideas challenged and broadened, and to meet new people." She blushed at Jane's unembarrassed gaze as she just smiled and shrugged again. "That was really sweet, what you did for your father."

"Nah, just what you do. Anyway, speaking of getting to know people, I tried to stalk you on Facebook earlier. No profile, or is it private?"

"Oh, I've never had any interest in social media," Maura said, again displaying her knack for a matter-of-fact tone where others might have sounded condescending. "Maybe I'd feel differently if I'd had friends in high school," she mused. "But I don't know, I'm all right not having all that information out there in cyberspace. If there's anything people want to know about me," she said, smiling at Jane, "they're welcome to ask."

Jane fumbled the throw and grinned bashfully. "I've got so many things I want to ask you, I don't know where to start. Right now all I can think about is…"

Maura moved closer, a teasing look in her eye. "Yes?"

Jane met her gaze and her breath hitched. "Um. That thing you texted me about? Not being able to stop thinking about it?"

"Oh yes, that thing," Maura purred. She got closer still, lightly resting her hands on Jane's waist, leaving a kiss below her ear and whispering into it: "Hold that thought."

She walked to the bedroom, where she ducked into the bathroom for a quick swish of mouthwash; the taste of ricotta and pastry flakes in her teeth did not lend themselves to sexiness. Feeling much refreshed, she reemerged to see Jane standing exactly where she'd left her, kneading her hands.

"You look relieved," Maura observed. "Were you afraid I wouldn't come back?"

"Um, no," Jane said, blushing. "I just—I dunno, I thought—it's dumb, but when you said that and then went to your bedroom, I thought maybe you were gonna change into like, something…"

"Sexy?"

"Well yeah, but no because that would imply that you don't look sexy right now. Which you do. You really, really do."

Maura glanced down in surprise. She was just wearing a simple black top and rust-colored capris; she hadn't had time to coordinate a more elaborate outfit. "Gosh, I didn't even wash my hair," she chuckled.

Jane was the one closing the gap between them now, putting one hand on Maura's hip and the other on her shoulder. "No, your hair looks really sexy up like that," she murmured, stroking upwards to Maura's neck. "Really…" She kissed Maura just below her ear, and was rewarded with a soft moan. "…really sexy."

Maura lifted her hands to Jane's face and shifted her for a proper kiss. Again the sensation was too much to bear, and Jane found her body reacting n ways she wouldn't have expected: the kiss swept through her from head to foot, and apparently back again, because the force of it caused her to rear up on her toes for a few moments. Considering that Jane was already a good deal taller than Maura, Maura unconsciously had to mirror the move, and then tittered when her heels touched the floor again.

"Is this funny to you?" Jane asked in a teasing tone of voice, though she was hoping for an immediate reassurance.

"I do think you're funny," Maura said, her arms circling around Jane's neck. "I had no intention of coming out in lingerie, but why were you _worried_ about it? You looked so nervous."

"Because I was," Jane said. "You can't have any idea how nerve-wracking it was just to kiss you, like, fully-clothed. Dinner last night was nice but I kept worrying I was gonna throw up because I was so nervous. A good nervous," she clarified, "not like, because I thought I was doing something bad. Just because it was new, and…"

"And?"

Jane chuckled to ease some of the tension. "And I was—I'm still—taken aback by how fast this was, and how random. I mean I go my whole life being told and believing that I'm just a late bloomer, and I start dating Casey because he asked and because it'd get my mom off my back, and then like… you show up and I dunno, it's like going through puberty all at once," she laughed, and Maura smiled sympathetically. "Like damn, I've never felt this way before. Or I never let myself feel it before. I just wanna hold your hand. Kiss you." _Make out with you_. "And in theory, yes, I'd love to see anything you'd, um, wear. But this soon and with no heads-up, yeah, you'd have had to carry me out on a stretcher."

"I understand," Maura said. "Don't worry, we can absolutely take our time getting to that point. I hope you'll let me know right away if I say or do anything that makes you uncomfortable, or feels pushy in any way. Okay? I do _not_ want you to feel rushed or anything else, so please know that you can shoot down or stop anything I suggest. I promise I won't be upset."

"Cool, good, thanks." Jane cleared her throat and smiled. "Although for me to do that, you'd have to suggest something first."

"Ah, how right you are! Hmm…how would you feel about moving to the couch?"

Jane shifted her grip so that one hand took Maura's. "Lead the way."

Maura guided Jane over to the couch and sat down next to her. "So," she sighed, stretching and putting her arm around Jane's shoulders. "What do you want to watch?"

"Oh! Um, okay, uh…" Jane glanced at Maura, who was stifling a laugh. She snorted and gave Maura's leg a soft punch. "Mean."

"I'm sorry, let me make it up to you."

Maura pulled Jane into a kiss, returned in earnest. More than once Maura got her fingers stuck in Jane's curls, and Jane had never been sorrier for her sensitive scalp. But her wincing led to Maura moving more gently, threading her fingers through Jane's tresses. It was yet another soothing kind of intimacy Jane had never experienced before. She sighed dreamily, a sound so foreign to her that she didn't even recognize it as her own.

"You have such smooth skin," Jane marveled, leaving light kisses along Maura's cheek, nose and jaw.

"Mm. I have a very thorough skincare regimen."

Maura's breath hitched when Jane moved to her neck, chuckling against it. "And here I was, thinking moisturizer and all that was just B.S. made up by beauty companies to get girls to feel bad about themselves." She kissed her way back up to Maura's lips. "Sorry I don't feel as nice as you do."

Maura pulled away enough to look Jane in the eye. "You feel very nice."

"You don't have to say that. I _don't_ have a thorough skincare regimen. Heck, I don't one at all. I'm all roughed up, I know."

"Yes, it's like making out with sandpaper," Maura said, and Jane laughed. "We don't have to feel the same just because we're both women, Jane. You know that, right?"

Jane nodded. "Right, yeah. Right. Sorry, I guess I'm just kinda used to feeling like I have to apologize in situations like this."

"Situations like what?"

"Like…" She gestured between the two of them. "Making out, stuff like that. My ex always kinda made me feel like I wasn't, I dunno, wasn't trying hard enough. He liked that I wasn't like other girls, but he sure wanted me to be when we were—when he kissed me."

It was rare for Maura to feel this level of contempt for someone she had never met. "Well, your ex must've been a complete ignoramus because you are an exceptional kisser."

Jane grinned, amused by the word choice and cheered by the compliment. "Wow, uh, thanks. Kinda going off intuition, because I definitely never kissed him like that. This is like …I don't know, the Golden Rule stuff, I guess."

"Oh? What is that, kiss others the way you'd like to be kissed?" Maura asked, returning Jane's smile. "What else did you wish you could do?"

"Hm?"

"I bet he never let you have a lap."

"What?"

In one swift move, Maura shifted to straddle Jane's lap. "Like this."

As if of their own volition, Jane's hands had already moved to Maura's legs. "Oh."

"Is this okay?"

"Yeah. Oh, hell yeah."

And oh, nothing had prepared her for this—for how it would feel to hold Maura while she was in motion on top of her. Maura's grip stayed pretty steadily at Jane's neck and shoulders, but Jane found herself wishing she had about eight more hands. They both traversed up Maura's sides, then one shifted up to her neck and the other to her back. Oh, God… Maura's hips were rolling against her, and Jane's hands went to grasp them.

"Jane, could you…"

The pause that followed couldn't have lasted more than a couple of seconds, but it felt significantly longer to both of them. Maura was desperate for sudden relief and had been about to ask Jane to shift her leg to accommodate that, but the thought had occurred to her that that might be asking too much far too soon. And so here she stopped, hovering over Jane, her hands already pre-emptively gripping the back of the couch for leverage.

"Um…are you okay?" Jane whispered.

"Yes, um, I was just wondering how you felt about... I need a second, sorry." Maura shifted off Jane's lap, feeling dazed.

Every part of Jane felt taut, simmering, and her heart could outrace a cheetah. Where did she stand on dry humping? Was that what Maura had wanted to ask? She'd barely come close to doing that with Casey; she had freaked out when she could feel him getting hard and had managed to put an end to it before it got much farther. The idea of getting ahead of herself with Maura hadn't occurred to her, even as a possibility, until Maura had hesitated.

"Why'd you stop us?" Jane asked, her voice gravelly and forcing Maura to suppress a shiver.

"I'm not sure I have a good answer to that."

"Try."

"Well…okay, let's see. I guess I tend to have sex two ways. Well, I mean, lot of ways," she said, and Jane's eyebrows rose again. "Rather, I come at it with one of two mindsets: mindless or very, very mindful. The latter would be with someone I'm dating. And I don't mean it always has to be slow or about _making love_ or serious with a capital S. It can be animalistic and raw with that person, too. But mindless sex is for when I just really need a release and want the gratification of having someone help me. I barely know you, but I know that's not all I want with you. And then I thought about blue balls. Did your boyfriend ever try to talk you into something with those?"

"Just once," Jane snorted. "I told him I was on my period and that grossed him out enough to shut him up."

Maura rolled her eyes. "Yes, well. I think women are better at dealing with that than men are."

"Fooling around on your period, you mean?"

"Probably, but I meant better about handling blue balls—or whatever the ball-less version of that is, as the case may be. Which is to say, your comfort is my priority. I mean," she laughed, "you were nervous about the potential of seeing me in lingerie! I could never mindlessly use you to get myself off."

Jane's head was reeling as she tried to keep up with Maura's train of thought. "Oh. Mindless, right, okay."

"Jane, don't misunderstand me. I like you. I like you a lot, to a degree I don't—a degree I have _never_ felt so fast before. That would be intense enough for me to handle on its own, but then it's compounded by your newness to all of this. It's making me think about things."

"Like what?"

Maura tucked her legs up on the couch. "Like if I asked you to define the act of sex, what would you say?"

Jane hated that she could feel herself blushing and that she couldn't bring herself to meet Maura's gaze. "Um, wow. Well, I mean, it's like…"

"I'm not trying to trick or embarrass you," Maura said. "I just think it might help us understand each other and certain boundaries a bit more."

"Uhh…well…I mean, I guess I've always been taught—I mean I've always thought it involved, like, nudity? Right? Skin touching, and…" She took a deep breath. "Penetration of something. But then, that wouldn't work with two women, I guess."

Maura tried not to look as surprised as she felt. "It wouldn't?"

"Well no, I mean—I guess unless you were gonna use like a strap-on or something. Oh! Or did you mean like, if you're a… if you're trans, and still have…?"

Maura shook her head. "Jane, no, you don't need a penis or a phallus-shaped object to have sex." She slowly lifted her hand, wiggling her fingers, and Jane stared as if waiting for her to magically reveal some sort of object. "You just need these."

Jane looked nothing short of shocked. "Wait, _what?_ "

"Jane!" Maura laughed, surprised by the depth of the naïveté she had been forewarned about. "Haven't you ever—? I mean, what do you do when you need to…"

"Get a release?" Jane asked, borrowing Maura's terminology and trying not to sound annoyed. "I grew up sharing a bedroom with both my brothers, I'm sure I mentioned that already. That wasn't really an environment that lent itself well to that kind of thing. And when I moved out, I dunno, it's just not something I ever sat around thinking about."

"So you've _never—_?"

"Oh, my God! Is this typical second date conversation, or am I just incredibly inexperienced?"

"It's all relative. A lot of people might be _doing_ instead of talking. I apologize if I've overstepped, really. We can talk about something else."

With a deep sigh, Jane closed her eyes and leaned back against the couch. Now that they'd started, she wondered if it might actually help to talk some of this out. Maura was already clued in to her astounding ignorance; might as well see where that led. "I'm sorry, I just really don't have a lot of experience talking about this stuff. Maybe it'd be a good idea for me to get more comfortable with that. Not as comfortable as _you_ ," she said, opening one eye and smirking at Maura. "But part of the process of shedding all that repressed Catholic crap has to at _least_ be being able to talk about it, right?" She rubbed her arms, as if a sudden chill had grabbed hold of her. "I just feel so exposed."

"What if I turned off the lights?"

Jane opened her eyes in suspicion. "What?"

"I've found it's easier sometimes to get through difficult conversations while you're focused on another task, perhaps driving or playing a game. In lieu of that, talking in the dark helps, too, because you don't have to look the other person in the eye or worry about them watching you while you try to get through whatever it is."

"Huh. Kind of like a sleepover, yeah? All the silly, raunchy stuff would get talked about after lights out."

"Oh! How interesting. I'll have to take your word for it, because I've never actually been to one."

Jane gave a theatrical gasp. "What! Like, omigod, turn off the lights then so we can dish!" To her surprise, she found the new darkness of the room comforting, even encouraging, but the teen sleepover facade remained in place to give her a moment to compose herself. "So like, new girl, what does sex mean to _you?_ "

It was hard not to smile at Maura's attempt to mimic Jane's adolescent impersonation: "Well, like, I totally would say it, like, just requires an orgasm or attempted orgasm to be considered sexual. Which is why I never understood, like, why people don't consider oral sex or masturbation to, like, count."

The frank phraseology made it hard to keep up the pretense. "Huh. Yeah, I guess that makes sense. And under that classification, I'm not totally inexperienced."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, um…don't laugh, okay?"

"Never."

"All right, when I was maybe twelve or thirteen we visited my aunt and uncle in Virginia and it was um, my time of the month. And they had a detachable shower head and I thought, hey! That might be an efficient way to help clean up down there! And, well," she chuckled dryly, "it was indeed effective in more ways than one. Kind of a startling discovery."

"But a good one?"

"I guess. I was just still so innocent I had no idea there was—I mean, I didn't really think of it as a _sexual_ thing; I just knew it felt really good. We didn't visit out there often, 'cause it's a bit of a hike, but I always looked forward to visiting. So… yeah, I guess I've done that."

"Why would I have laughed at that?"

Jane shrugged, forgetting Maura couldn't see her. "I dunno, it's kind of dumb, isn't it?"

"Jane, you're far from the first or only girl who's enjoyed a shower head for that purpose. I'm a fan of them myself. But now that you've got your own room in your own place, you know, it doesn't hurt to give a hand the old college try."

"Yeah, maybe," Jane said, glad the darkness was hiding her blush. "I just never had much of a sex drive, or at least a very active one. I mean, not until…" _Would it be too much to say "you"?_

Maura's hand found her arm, and goose bumps erupted along Jane's skin. The darkness added a new element of excitement for them both and they pulled close together again. Maura lifted one hand to Jane's cheek, but before she could bring her close enough to kiss, Jane spoke again.

"Do you think there's something wrong with me?" Her voice was quiet, timid. It would've been unrecognizable to anyone she worked with; hell, even to her own family, most likely.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, am I getting hung up over nothing? I bet lots of people wouldn't have cared—wouldn't have stopped a few minutes ago. Even if they're like me and spent their whole lives repressing, they'd jump at the chance for sex. They probably wouldn't even stop to think, they'd just do!"

"Well first of all, _I'm_ the one who stopped us. Not you."

"Right, because you thought I'd be uncomfortable. And you were correct there, I might add."

"Jane, no, none of this means there's something wrong with you. People—Americans, at least—get so hung up about sex. It's either everything or nothing."

Jane snorted. "Mindless or mindful?"

"That's not what I mean. It's built up to be the grandest and most important of all gestures, or it's waved off like it means nothing, ever. We can talk about virginity as a construct, but that doesn't mean it's not a big deal to be intimate with someone for the first time. And there are so many ways to _be_ intimate. It doesn't need to involve orgasms or _penetration_ ," she said, getting Jane to chuckle. "Oh, Jane. I'm not interested in seeing you because sex is my end-all, be-all goal with you. Don't get me wrong, I would certainly not be opposed to that happening someday." Another shared laugh. "But there's so many other things to share with you and there is no need at all to hurry."

Jane shifted away, resting her arms on her knees and leaning over. Tears had sprung to her eyes out of nowhere, and she hoped that the darkness would again come to her aid and keep Maura from seeing them. God, it was so embarrassing to have feelings. Her stomach felt twisted into knots as she tried her hardest to hold a grateful sob at bay, but then Maura's hand rested on her back and that was all the permission Jane needed to let go.

"Thanks," she sputtered, still bent over. She made quick work of brushing at her eyes, with the fleeting thought that maybe she could pass it off as tiredness. "Thank you f-for being so patient with me."

"I wouldn't call it patience, but whatever it is, you make it very easy."

Jane managed a laugh and straightened back up. Her eyes had adjusted enough to the dark now that she could make out Maura's face, if not the nuances of her expression. She pulled Maura in for a kiss, no smash cut necessary, and enjoyed every small moment that followed.

It occurred to her that for as sudden as this had all seemed, maybe it wasn't so fast after all. She had spent a lifetime of moments waiting for this feeling.

* * *

 _ **A/N: (please read!)** Hey all! Thank you so much for reading and for your comments - they're all very much appreciated! I had wanted to keep this story short so I wouldn't end up writing something longer and inevitably leave it discontinued. I have more thoughts on where I'd like this story to go, but I can't guarantee that updates would be very fast or regular so I feel like I should leave this be for now. I may upload a part two (separately or perhaps add on here) in the future, but in case that doesn't happen any time soon, I hope you enjoyed this part! _


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